Comedy Stories


“I need you to start sleeping with your husband.”

“That’s an odd request.”

“Unfortunately, it’s an urgent one.”

“Are there any other men that you would like me to start sleeping with as well?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, that’s a relief. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should install a Take-A-Number ticket dispenser outside my bedroom door.”

“Don’t make light of our situation, precarious as it is.”

“As much as I like to make you happy, sleeping with my dear husband may be challenging in all sorts of ways. Firstly, I loathe him. Secondly, he usually stays at our place in the city. The penthouse suits him—high above, in the clouds, looking down at the rest of us mortals.”

“Well, perhaps you can make an overture? When you see him next, wear your red dress and white heels with the ankle straps. You can be quite convincing when you put your mind to it.”

“Is that your gentlemanly way of calling me a slut?”

“Of course not. I just don’t want our arrangement discovered. That would complicate things.”

“Complicate things for whom? You seem to be quite at home here in his bed.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase what I mean.”

“Perhaps you should.”

“At this juncture, the consequences of our affair being discovered are severe. I could lose my job, and you could lose everything—including your seat on the board.”

“Maybe I’m bored with the board.”

“Darling, if you don’t engage in relations with your husband now, it will cause problems for us in the future. We both have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo as it protects our unique—but delicate—partnership.”

“Do we have a limited or a full partnership?”

“You know how I feel about you.”

“Oh, you have a puritanical way of making me feel quite sordid—like I’m one of your high-priced call girls.”

“That was one time. I should have never told you that in confidence. You can’t let anything go, can you?”

“I can’t let go of you, can I? I’ve tried. I can’t.”

“You’re not listening to me. Your husband is suspicious. He’s acting quite strange in the office.”

“How so?”

“He’s asking too many questions. I don’t think he trusts me anymore.”

“He shouldn’t.”

“Well, I don’t see how we can continue without you repairing your relationship with him. Perhaps it’s best if we end it now.”

“Oh, you are insufferable! Come back to bed. It’s too early in the morning for paradoxical pronouncements. But I’ll indulge you. Just this once. Explain it to me like I’m a child. How can making love to my husband benefit our affaire de cœur?”

“It will throw him off our scent. You know how dogged he is when he has a bone to chew on. The way he looks at me at meetings. I think he knows—”

“About my attempts to break the prenup?”


“Or our affair?”


“Or your embezzling?”

“Embezzling is such a vulgar word.”

“Would you prefer I call your stealing something academic? In the future, I’ll use a euphemism from business school—like reallocation of financial resources. Or maybe something lawyerly: fraudulent appropriation. Or maybe literary? You are purloining ill-gotten gains. Regardless, you’ve been a thief longer than you’ve been unzipping my dresses.”

“You were bold from the start.”


“Yes, you. I blame you for my separation from my second wife.”

“I’ve seen your second wife. You should be thanking me.”

“Attacking my wife? That’s low. Even for you. You used to be so enchanting.”

“You used to be brazen. I remember the time under the conference room table when—”

That was one time, too. God, I should never have touched you. You’re poison.”

“And you’re boring. Get dressed. Get out.”

“Fine! But don’t think you can outsmart your husband and me. We know about your attempts to wrest control of the company.”

“Ridiculous! What are you implying—”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you what I know to be the truth.”

“You and the truth have parted company long ago. You see diabolical plots and seedy schemes that don’t exist!”


“Don’t laugh at me!”

“How can I help it when you are such a fool? As your husband’s Chief Financial Officer, did you think I wouldn’t notice a few senior managers lapping up shares of stock like kittens at a bowlful of cream?”

“I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“You didn’t think I needed to know that you, your co-conspirators, and your inter-dealer brokers were engaged in a stock acquisition? It was the shoddiest attempt at a corporate takeover I’ve ever seen.”

“Not true! We have managed to amass a majority of the company’s stock.”

“I’m curious. How much did they tell you that they had in hand?”

“Over 50%.”

“Hah! All of your dark pools and anonymous exchanges were for nothing. Your friends have kept you in the dark. All you’ve managed to scrape together this past quarter is 48%…”

“It’s more than 48%—much more!”

“O contraire, my love. The Chief Technology Officer is an old girlfriend of mine from college. At my request, she installed tracking software on all corporate email accounts after the last shareholders’ meeting.”

“Including board members?”

“Especially board members.”


Liar? This coming from a woman who did not follow through on the pregnancy termination agreement we discussed!”


“God forbid you become anyone’s mother! But by becoming pregnant, it violates your prenuptial agreement. Prepare yourself for a nasty divorce.”

“How so?”

“Your husband has had a vasectomy.”

“It’s your child.”

“No, it is not. Mercifully, you aren’t pregnant.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because sleeping with you and vasectomies are two things your husband and I have in common.”

“I hate you.”

“Perhaps the Chief Operating Officer is more to your liking. I know you’ve been seeing him on the side. Did you think sleeping with him would help you gain control of your husband’s company?”

“At least he’s not a coward!”

“True. But he’s also a liar.”

“How so?”

“Because he only holds 1% of the stock.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *