"You're drunk again, aren't you," I asked.

"It's pain medication, you moron. You stabbed my freakin' hand. I drink about as often as you don't."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that."

She loves my COCK!

"Are you still trying that? Have you even considered the fact that the phone lines might be down?"

I stared at my wife the way a dictator would stare at a peasant who just suggested he might not be running the country in the best of the nation's interest. For a long while, we both said nothing. The only sound in the room came from the incessant ticking of the clock, which only mocked the situation with its tireless record-keeping of the tension between us. Still glaring at my wife, I double-clicked the dialup again.

She loves my COCK!

"This can't be right," I told her. "I've checked my password at least two thousand times, and it still keeps telling me to check it again. Maybe I should call Bill gates and see what the problem is."

"Yeah, why don't you do that. Then, when you find out the phone is shut off again, maybe you'll stop being retarded and give that thing a rest."

"Then again, maybe I'll just have to find a new hobby. Like beating your ass."

I picked up the phone and dialed information. Nothing. And just like that, my world collapsed. For a long while, I just sat there, staring dazedly at the screen which used to bring me so much joy... phone still pressed against my ear. My heart raced, and my bottom lip trembled as I tried to piece together the chaos which littered my thoughts. What would I do? How did this happen? Why did God hate me so much? With no access to the forums, how would I call Gale gay? Where was I going to find free porn without having to leave the house?

Carrie stood her ground, smug and solid, awaiting the opportunity to slip in a good "I told you so." I could feel her staring at me, her gaze pressed into the back of my neck with an eerie pressure that sent a shiver up my spine. Thinking quickly, I spoke into the phone.

"Uh, yes. Operator person? I need the number for Bill Gates... yes? OK, thank you."

I immediately hung up and dialed a random number. Using my extensive phone knowledge, I deduced that I would have to wait a couple of seconds to simulate ringing, and just as Carrie began to jump in with a smartass comment, I spoke.

"John, you know-"

"Hello! Mr. Gates? Yes, this is John Cheese. My computer is acting strange. When I try to connect to the internet, it screams "she loves my COCK," and then tells me to check my password. What's the deal? Yes... Oh, OK. Yes, I understand. Thank you for your help."

I hung up and crossed my arms as Carrie started her gloating.

"Wow," she spat out in sarcasm. "I can't believe you got through to Bill Gates so easily. Since when did he become a computer repair man?"

"Since he invented the computer, smartass. And for your information, the reason I'm not able to connect to the internet is because a hacker got into my computer and erased the part of it that lets it dial. So what Bill Gates did for us is, just for a safety precaution, he shut our phone off right after that call so a hacker can't mess with us anymore until we pay our next phone bill."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Why can't you just admit that you faked that call and our phone is already shut off?"

"Because it wasn't! I'm not going to sit here and bold-faced lie to you and tell you our phone was shut off when it wasn't. Bill Gates shut it off to protect us, and you should be more thankful to him for it, you selfish harlot."

"And what happens when they turn it back on? I suppose Hitler will personally oversee our internet account to keep out the evil hackers."

I glared at my wife until she finally just gave up and left the room.

"He still has my belt," I yelled after her.

"No, he doesn't, John. Your belt- just forget it."

On to Part 3