Hi, George. This is Richard, next door. I’ve a confession to make. 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. At least I’m telling you in this text. I can’t live with myself a minute longer without your knowing about this. The truth is, 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.
George, 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. George then looked at his phone and discovered a second text message from Richard.
SECOND TEXT MESSAGE:
Hi, George. 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.