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A married couple is cruising steadily down the highway at 40 mph. The husband grips the wheel, eyes on the road.
Suddenly, his wife speaks clearly:
“We’ve been married over twenty years, but I want a divorce.”
He stays silent, gradually easing the speed up to 45 mph.
“I don’t want you trying to talk me out of it,” she presses.
Still nothing—just 55 mph on the speedometer.
“I’ve been having an affair with your best friend,” she continues smugly. “He’s a far better lover than you.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel.
“I want the house,” she demands. Up to 60 mph.
“I want the car too.” Now 65 mph.
“And I’ll take the bank accounts, credit cards, and the boat!”
The car drifts toward a massive concrete bridge. Nervously, she asks, “Isn’t there anything you want?”
The husband finally answers calmly:
“No. I have everything I need.”
“Oh really? What’s that?” she snaps.
He smiles.
“The airbag.”
