Murphy Zephrengle had seen that little potted cactus in the bedroom a thousand times without really noticing it. But something caught his eye. It looked like maybe a bloom on the side, catching and reflecting light. Strange. He picked up the pot from the shelf and inspected it closely. It wasn’t a bloom, it was a camera lens. And the cactus wasn’t real, it was plastic.

Someone was spying on him. His wife.

He’d never cheated on her, nor given her any reason to believe he’d cheated. And yet she was possessed by a demon of insecurity. She watched Murphy’s eyes whenever he talked to any woman, making sure his gaze never wandered below the neck. She interrogated him after every phone call. And she asked him where he was going or where he had been whenever he left the house or returned home.

Murphy figured out that the camera sent a wireless signal to her computer, where it recorded images at one frame per second. And there in the archives were thousands of images of him at various times of the day, doing various things, whenever he was in the bedroom. Mostly he was napping.

He thought he could have some fun with this, so he ordered a life-size doll from a sex toy website. It cost him over a thousand bucks, but he got his money’s worth. She looked very real. Murphy named her Sophia, because she felt so soft. And the velvety texture of her silicone skin actually turned him on a little when he stroked it.

The stage was set. He carried Sophia, reclining in his arms, into the bedroom, and gently laid her upon the bed in full view of the cactus camera. He kissed her and slowly undressed her as the camera silently clicked away. She was anatomically correct, even down to her orifices, and I’ll allow your imagination to figure out what he did next.

The following morning Murphy’s wife was seated at her computer when he heard a loud shriek. He rushed over and saw her fall upon the floor, curl into the fetal position, and begin weeping hysterically. There on her computer monitor were the pictures of he and Sophia.

When she recovered enough to talk, he let her dig the deepest hole she’d ever dug for herself, with every accusation of adultery and threat of divorce that emerged from her lips. He just sat there smugly and waited for her to finish. And then came the line, “I TRUSTED you until now!” And that’s when Murphy Zephrengle let her have it.

It’s been six months since this incident. The Zephrengles are still together, and I think everything will work out. That’s because they’ve both been receiving very wise counsel from competent professionals. Yes, they’re both in therapy. She’s being treated for her insecurity issues. And he’s being treated for a serious problem too, although it was kind of embarrassing for Murphy to admit it.

He’s fallen in love with Sophia.