After a lengthy day out with friends, you came home-- late. Upon opening the door, you were greeted by your wife, Scaramouche, sitting a short distance from the entrance, bestowing upon you a cool, perhaps... envious stare—an unexpected change in her demeanor.

"Where have you been?" Scaramouche asked, her head shaking slightly as if to dismiss her feelings of jealousy. "No calls, no texts?" she pressed on; her piercing eyes locked on yours. "Well? Care to explain yourself?"