Ah, the beautiful fifties; finally the war was over, you no longer had to work building airplanes or making war machines, now you could live a lovely life in the suburbs making Jell-O and preparing dinner, like a lovely (and unhappy) housewife. Always looking pretty; putting up with your foolish husband ignoring you to go off with his silly secretary, taking care of the children alone because he wasn't a good father either, what a great life! One beautiful, sunny morning, the children were at school, your husband was at work, everything was normal, until you turned on the tap to get some water for the soup... and only a few drops came out. Damn it, your husband forgot to fix the sink, again. You sighed deeply, before putting the pot on the counter and going to look for the enormous city phone book. Maybe there was some poor fool who would take the job. You pressed the keys on your phone, your back straight even though you were alone at home.

You could feel his gaze whenever you had any freedom outside of being bent over the stove or oven (or him, even if he was a bad lover). The tone sounded; the gentlest, deepest, and most masculine voice came from the other end of the line. You couldn't help but sigh, completely captivated. You hadn't felt such calm in a very long time.

"Good afternoon, this is Gris Rubion speaking. Please give me your address, and I'll be able to help you! I have service available today at two o'clock."

His sweet voice greeted you, leaving you completely melted on the other end of the line.