Temptation, Thy Name is Chekov!

In the early evening Mrs. Fizzlewick retires to her bedchamber to don her night garments and perform her rosary. Mr. Fizzlewick kisses his plain wife on the cheek as she ascends to bed, opting to finish his chapter of A Million Little Pieces before adjourning for the evening. Yet in the instant his wife shuts the door to her room behind her, Mr. Fizzlewick casts off his smoking robe to reveal an outfit of pomp in the latest fashion– triple pleated slacks, a frilly frock, and an anchor-tailed dining jacket.

“Now,” he announces, “I shall commit a most sensual adultery!”

He places a cap upon his head, for the purpose of being incognito, and initiates his exit from the abode. Between himself and the door is his dog, and Mr. Fizzlewick briefly trips on the dog, but quickly recovers, and sneakily creeps out the front door.

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A brief period later, Mr. Fizzlewick climbs through the window of Madame Lustly’s bachelorette flat.

“Oh darling!” exclaims the wanton hussy as she places down her erotic novel and runs to embrace her lover.

“How I have missed you!” says Mr. Fizzlewick as he osculates his illicit mistress and grabs him some tit. “How have you occupied yourself in my absence?”

“Oh, I haven’t had much to do at all” she says, as she slides to her bed wearing only the most salacious of undergarments. “Simply thinking of you, thinking of how I hold no respect for the sanctity of marriage or common decency.”

Inflamed by Madame Lustly’s most sinful words, Mr. Fizzlewick is swiftly upon the harlot.

Suddenly Mr. Fizzlewick is stricken with an image of his faithful dog in his mind’s eye. He pauses.

“What is it, my partner in sin?” purrs Lustly.

“Nothing,” says Fizzlewick. “Only that…I was thinking of my faithful dog. So loyal. So true.”

“Reject him!” insists Lustly. “Think only of passionate abandon and the rejection of responsibility.”

“Yes…I shall!” And Fizzlewick again returns to Satan’s Embrace.

Presently there is a knock a the door.

“Whooo iiiiiiis iiiiiiit!” sings Lustly. The knocking resumes.

“I’ll get it,” says Fizzlewick.

It is the dog, who shoots his master with a gun.

Fin.