Hi, Fred, this is Alan next door. I have a confession to make. I have been riddled with guilt these past few months and have been trying to get up the courage to tell you face-to-face, but I am at least telling you in text as I cannot live with myself a moment longer without you knowing.
The truth is I have been sharing your wife, day and night when you’re not around. In fact, probably more than you.
I haven’t been getting it at home recently, but I know that’s no excuse. The temptation was just too great. I can no longer live with the guilt and hope that you will accept my sincerest apologies, and forgive me. It won’t happen again. Please suggest a fee for usage, and I’ll pay you.
Regards, Alan.
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Fred, feeling so angered and betrayed he grabbed his gun...and shot his neighbor dead.
He returned home, poured himself a stiff drink and sat down on the sofa.
He took out his phone where he saw a second message from his neighbor, Alan:
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Hi, Fred, this is Alan next door, again.
Sorry about the typo on my last text. I expected that you figured it out anyway, and noticed that darned Auto-Correct changed “wi-fi” to “wife.” That’s today’s technology for you, hey!
Regards, Alan
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