Hi, Max. This is Richard, next door. I've been riddled with guilt for a
few months and have been trying to get up the courage to tell you
face-to-face When you're not around, I've been sharing your wife, day
and night, probably much more than you. I haven't been getting it at
home recently. I know that's no excuse. The temptation was just too
great. I can't live with the guilt & hope you'll accept my sincere
apology and forgive me. Please suggest a fee for usage and I'll pay you.
Richard.
Max, feeling enraged and betrayed, grabbed his gun, went next door, and
shot Richard dead. He returned home, shot his wife, poured himself a
stiff drink and sat down on the sofa, and read this followup text from
his neighbour:
Hi, Max. Richard here again. Sorry about the typo on my last text. I
assume you figured it out and noticed that the darned Spell-Check had
changed "wi-fi" to "wife. Technology, huh? It'll be the death of us all.
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