" Behind him hobbled Granma, who had survived only because she was as mean as
her husband. She had held her own with a shrill ferocious religiOSity that was as
lecherous and as savage as anything Grampa could offer. Once, after a meeting, while
she was still speaking in tongues, she fired both barrels of a shotgun at her husband,
ripping one of his buttocks nearly off, and after that he admired her and did not try to
torture her as children torture bugs. As she walked she hiked her Mother Hubbard up to
her knees, and she bleated her shrill terrible war cry: "Pu-raise Gawd fur vittory."
Granma and Grampa raced each other to get across the broad yard. They fought
over everything, and loved and needed the fighting. "
Basically, grandpa and grandma were both mean and loved to pick fights. They could take it out on each other, and loved to do so. In fact, they needed the fighting, probably to get out their aggression and keep them connected.
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