It is always in the center of my thoughts that I should desire to assist my fellow man when I find him in some manner of distress. So it was just the other night when I discovered a nefarious plot concocted against one of my dearest friends. It was all the more shocking to learn that the plan against him was made by his own wife of thirty-plus years.
“Randy and Misty” came to our house for dinner and games not long ago. They are dear friends of my wife and I and we always enjoy their company. On this night, they brought barbecue ribs from a local joint and we (that is, the wife) fixed all the other stuff. The dinner was fabulous and was followed by a round of cards. It was during one of our breaks from cards that the alleged plot was uncovered. Misty had gone off to the ladies room when Randy looked at me and dropped his voice.
“Misty is trying to kill me.”
I was stunned. “I don’t believe it. She loves you. Why in the world would she want you dead other than for the insurance?”
“Every morning, I wake up with what appears to be knife wounds in my side. I know they’re knife wounds because I can see the deep red impressions on my ribcage and she is not strong enough to shove the knife all the way through. Sometimes my nose hurts like it has been pinched hard too.”
Right about that time, Misty came back into the room. I decided to confront the issue head on. I would prove Randy either nuts or expose Misty’s evil goal.
“Misty, are you trying to kill Randy?” My sudden accusation stunned Misty.
“Certainly not! Why would you ever accuse me of that?” Misty was clearly incensed. I told her what Randy had said. She stared at me for the longest time then shifted her attention (and wrath) to Randy.
“Those marks on your side are my fingernails poking you and your sore nose comes from me squeezing it. I have been trying to get you to quit snoring! You’re so loud it wakes the dogs and they’re downstairs! You know what else, if I want to get a knife all the way through, I guarantee I am strong enough!” Misty left the room in tears and a huff.
With this fresh knowledge, I knew exactly what I needed to do to restore matrimonial bliss to this sleep deprived couple. When Misty finally came back into the room, I sat them both down and gave them the two best cures for snoring that I know of.
“Misty, when Randy starts to snore, put his hand into a bowl of water. That cure has been known to work without fail except when it doesn’t. I must warn you though, it does have the rather nasty side effect of also causing the snorer to go “number one.” When that happens, you’ll just have to get him up altogether and make him change the sheets.”
I went on. “If that doesn’t work as promised, Misty, get yourself a stinky sock. One of his would probably work best. Shove the thing in his nose and keep it there until he stops. It is guaranteed to either work or start a big fight.”
As they left, I knew that I had done a good and unselfish deed and my dear friend’s happiness had been restored. I have not heard from them since.