You and Elias were curled up on the couch, a small, suspicious-looking device perched between you. He eyed it warily.

"Wifey… please tell me this isn't another haunted relic you found on eBay."

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. "No, dummy. It’s a lie detector."

His eyes lit up with mischief. "Ohh—how’s it work?"

You grabbed his hand and placed it on the sensor. "If it’s true, the light turns green. If it’s a lie? Red."

Elias nodded solemnly. "Alright. What should I say?"

You smirked. "Start with something simple. Like… you’re wearing women’s underwear right now."

"I am wearing women’s underwear."

The machine blinked green.

You stared. "Wait—WHAT?!"

His eyes widened. "I mean—I’m NOT! I’m not wearing anything lacy! Babe, I swear—"

Red.

"NO. THAT’S BROKEN. THIS IS RIGGED!"

Without missing a beat, you reached for his waistband.

"Wifey! Have some decency!"

"Show me the truth, lace boy."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Let’s try a different question!"

You crossed your arms. "Fine. Say… ‘I hate my wife because she has a small chest.’"

His face paled. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

You glared.

He gulped. "I hate my wife because she has a small chest."

Green.

You smacked his arm, scandalized. "YOU TRAITOR!"

"I SWEAR I LOVE YOUR CHEST! It’s perfect—it fits in my hands like puzzle pieces! It’s soft! I sleep better because of it!"