I unwrapped the gift. It was a small chip

I unwrapped the gift. It was a small chip for the back of my neck. It would monitor my location, when I slept, what food I ate and how often I exercised. "Why thanks, hon."

"You're welcome, darling," she replied, a smile on her lips, but not in her eyes. "Here, let me imbed it for you. Turn around." I had no choice but to turn & offer my nape. My wife

what my dear loving wife didn't know is that I imbedded a tracking device into her neck too. Last night, while she was asleep. I smiled innocently & poured her a glass of merlot.

She slapped the Merlot back into my Polo shirt and said, "Take back you're putrid Kool-aid! Bring me a real wine, a Pinot Noir!" My wife had changed her tune.

Her "cultured" phase strained our relationship. My wife made me wear that Polo shirt; I popped the collar so no one could see the shame on my face. "Here's the box of Pinot Noir,"

I said, shoving it at her. "I hope you've brought it to room temperature," she said with a fixed smile. The neighbours looked on pityingly. I asked my wife to come into the kitchen

. I said "Hun' if you make more jokes like that they'll catch on! If they don't eat Uncle Wilbur how are we going to get rid of the body? Now get in there & tell 'em its a roasted

chicken, or pig, or... something! They must never know!" Uncle Wilbur was the unknown main course for this meal and my partner is giving that mystery away.

But the last meal has to be something out of the ordinary. And it has to be accompanied by a good wine. We had it. We had the wine and the stars. Nothing else mattered...