Consultation 131.

Black bags under my eyes, I stared vacantly at one of my most dreadful clients… my wife, Goddess Husbandos.

“Haha. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Certainly.”

“...”

“...”

It was awkward, too awkward. She stared back at me in silence without moving or blinking.

When I couldn’t take the unsettling silence anymore, I caved and asked, “What brings you here today?”

“What brings me here, indeed... I truly wonder what it could be.”

“If you don’t know, why are you here?”

“Instead of me telling you, why don’t you tell me why I’m here? As a fellow God, I’m sure you can figure out that much if you really tried.”

“Hmm… could it be you’ve gained some weight?”

“Weight? I don’t think so.”

“Then… were trying to find out where the pudding in the fridge went?”

“No, I already know some fat bastard went and ate it without my permission.”

Ugh. So she knew about that already? Damn, I was hoping to redirect her rage toward something else, but my two trump cards attacking weight and pudding failed.

“Could it be because someone left the toilet seat up?”

“I obviously wouldn’t book a consultation for something like that.”

“Then... I’m truly stumped.” I was down to my last card, the ignorant dumbass.

“I see. What a shame. To think you’d be so useless. I suppose I have no other choice than to ask directly. God, can you give me five good reasons why I shouldn’t castrate my cheating husband who got a second wife behind my back?”

It came… it really came after all.

“Your husband cheated on you and married another woman behind your back? What a terrible guy. Rather than castrate him, why keep wasting your time on him? Don’t you think you should just divorce him?”

“Divorce? That would be letting him off too easy, don’t you think?”

“Not at all, I think it’s the perfect punishment.”

“You do?” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer over the desk.

“Yes, it is the perfect punishment.”

“I don’t know. I really do think castrating him is a much better punishment. Unless I hear five good reasons why I shouldn’t castrate him… then…” she raised her hand a bit off the table, separated her index and middle fingers apart before she closed them together. She repeated this action a few times with a wink and dangerous smile on her face.

My balls shriveled up and receded into my body as I broke out into sweat. The look in her eyes was dead serious.

If I didn’t shit some really good reasons out, I was genuinely screwed this time.

When I brought Goddess Grandparents home with me after work yesterday, there was no need for words. I simply grunted and held out the marriage certificate with a deadpan expression. It was the quickest method to convey the situation.

Goddess Husbandos put on a warm smile, tilted her head to one side, then turned around and entered the kitchen. The sound of her digging through the kitchen drawers immediately followed before she returned with one hand behind her back donning the same warm smile on her face.

I took a step back and positioned Goddess Grandparents between the two of us. She was the perfect meat shield.

I thought Goddess Grandparents would end up skewered the same way I normally was, but contrary to my expectations, she held her ground well. Their battle to the death continued all through the night until it was time to go to work; in the end, they were forced to agree to a temporary ceasefire.

Though, lack of sleep wasn’t the reason for the bags under my eyes; rather, it was from being constantly on edge throughout the night. Anytime one of Goddess Husbandos' thrown knives got past Goddess Grandparents, they just barely whiffed me.

By the time morning arrived, they were still going at it while I was huddled in a corner with a few hundred knives carving out my outline on the wall. Women were scary.

“You’ve been silent for quite a while now. Could it be you can’t even think of one good reason why my husband should not be castrated?”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve just thought of so many that I can’t decide which one to start with.”

“Hoh, so many? I’d sure love to hear them. Please do go ahead.” She squinted and eyed me like a hawk.

With her intense gaze locking me down, I had nowhere to run or hide. I felt like a cornered rat. Her cat ears more than ever made me feel that way.

I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers. It was always like this when we were together, her eyes were mystifying, they pulled you in and prevented you from averting your gaze.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“The first reason you shouldn’t castrate your husband is… this marriage was absolutely not his fault.”

“Hmmm,” Goddess Husbandos hummed unamused.

“Ugh!”

When I registered the stabbing pain from my chest, I winced and I was able to avert my eyes away from her thanks to the pain. I looked down at my chest and discovered a knife plunged into it.

“That hurt! Can you please at least refrain from stabbing me at work?”

“I don’t like hearing excuses. Trying to absolve yourself of the blame here is pretty low.”

I lifted my left hand off the desk to pull out the knife in my chest and said, “But it’s really not my fault! It’s all Goddess Grandparents’ fault!” 

“Two.” Goddess Husbandos counted off.

“Kkhhh!” Before I could even remove the first knife, another knife came flying at me. This one flew at me from a wide angle before it plunged into the palm of my left hand with enough force to send my hand flying back. My chair was dragged along until the knife pinned my left hand to the wall behind me.

I stood up and pleaded, “Can you please stop?”

“Why? We’re just playing a little game of hanghusband. You’ve got three more chances before you receive a game over.”

“Uh… game over as in…”

“What else if not the subject we’re talking about right now?”

I let out a dry laugh, “Haha… right… of course it would be that.”

This is why I didn’t ever want to get married in the first place! 

Can I cry? Is it okay for me to cry now? I’m already used to being stabbed by her, but it still hurts a bit. But at least she was kind enough to not use her cursed knives that amplified pain. I guess those were reserved for home. She was being considerate of my work in her own twisted way.

“So? Shall we continue with those allegedly good reasons you thought of now?”

I raised my right hand in front of my chest and said, “Please stop with the knives and at least listen until the end this time. Goddess Grandparents went and messed with Author’s cover on Author Fool’s because she wasn’t on it and she was malding because of that. Author showed up the next day and suddenly presented that marriage certificate to me with her stamp of approval on it. She claimed this forced arranged marriage was Goddess Grandparents’ punishment for her actions. So this is also entirely Author’s fault as well!”

“Three.”

“OWWWW! That one really hurt! What was that for? Can’t you see it’s obviously not my fault?” This knife pierced my right palm completing my crucifixion to the wall.

“That one really hurt because it was filled with my love for you. Besides, I asked for good reasons to not castrate you yet all you’re doing is spitting out a bunch of stupid excuses.” 

She stood up, teleported to my side, and sat down on top of my desk wiith one leg crossed over the other.

“Excuses?” I looked at her doubtfully.

“You really haven’t figured it out yet? Excuses are not what I want to hear from you.”

She doesn’t want excuses? That’s right… she asked for reasons… There was a big difference between an excuse and a reason. The only question now was, what sort of reason did she want to hear the most?

Wait… didn’t she actually give me a hint just now? When she said this last one really hurt because it was filled with her love for me, was that supposed to be a hint? Or was that just her sadistic side flaring up. Knowing her, it was probably both.

Should I gamble with one of my two remaining chances?

It’s… at the very least, worth a shot.

“The best reason I can give you is... I love you.”

“Haha. Four.”

Without hesitation, she threw out another knife.

“You say you love me, yet you go and marry another woman while you’re already married to me? That’s quite the shallow love if I’ve ever seen one.”

I slowly looked down at where her last knife landed. There was no pain this time, it had landed right between my legs unbearably close to the danger zone.

“I really love you! Your eyes always draw me into another world. Your ears make me want to hold you tight. Your lips make me lose my mind. Your hair drives me mad at night. Your smile is one of a kind. Every step you take sends chills running down my back. Every move you make results in cataclysmic tremors rattling through my brain. I love you. It’s true that I love you, I swear! Just believe me!” For the love of me, let this be enough!

“Five.” Her fifth knife flew directly at my face. This knife skimmed my right cheek opening up a shallow cut deep enough to draw blood before the blade pierced the wall. A warm crimson fluid trickled down my cheek as I stood with a stiff expression while pinned to the wall.

What was that supposed to mean? Was what I said still not good enough?

She hopped off the desk and closed the distance between us. She stopped in front of me and raised her index finger to my cheek.

I felt her long fingernail slide against my skin. Her nails were unreasonably sharp and easily cut into my skin like a hot knife through butter. From the initial cut from the knife, she drew a line at a 45-degree angle to it then closed it off in a heart shape.

“What are you doing?”

“I love you too, dummy.”

She leaned in and licked the bleeding heart she drew on my cheek.

With her right hand on my left cheek, she said,  “I’ll forgive you once, but if you get a third one… hehe, be prepared. I don’t know what I’ll do. You won’t get off with just this.” 

With my blood still on her lips, she used it as lipstick and pressed hers against my own.

After a short kiss, her right hand slid off my cheek and down my chest before she turned around. Without another word she cooly exited the room.

Just like that I was left behind crucified with a pool of blood underfoot.

Was this supposed to be some sort of abandonment play? You could have at least removed the knives before you left damn it!

Haaaaaah.

The only saving grace in all of this was that I’d somehow survived this ordeal with my balls intact.

Mark my words, I will NEVER have a third wife.