domestic violence, not just a RZA song

They had the worst fight we've heard yet a few nights ago on the front porch. We could hear the screaming "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE" and the sound of the table being thrown at the wall, or Bruce. It continued for maybe half an hour. We had locked the door and bolted it, yet listened carefully from the living room.
Eventually the cursing and banging against the walls stopped and was replaced by a rythmic pounding. They were fucking.
"You can hear it better from the bathroom" Scarlett says.
"Do you really want to hear it better?" I ask.
"Um....kind of" she says.
"Me too"
And we huddle in the bathroom ears near the wall listening to them fuck. Pretty soon it turns back into fighting.
At this point, we assume the cops have been called, though we will never do it.
We see the flashlights and unlock and open the door to the screen.
The cops don't take long, and seem urgent to hurry off.
We are disappointed we have not been interviewed. As they pull past the house Scarlett and I stand on the front porch. The cops yell up "Did you ladies call the cops?"
"No" says Scarlett, happily munching on the popcorn she has made for the event"
"OOOOOH. Candy!" I say, during the fight a whole bunch of candy has been scattered over their side of the porch. I pick out a lollipop and a caramel. The cops look at each other and drive away.