She spent the first day sadly packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.
On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.
On the third day, she sat down on the floor in the dining room by candlelight, put on
some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a
bottle of Chardonnay.
When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few halfeaten shrimp and caviar into the hollow of the curtain rods. She replaced the end
caps on the curtain rods and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she moved out.
When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days.
Then slowly, the house began to smell.
They tried everything from cleaning, mopping, and airing the place out. Vents were
checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung
everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off poison gas, during which they
had to move out for a few days. They even paid to replace the expensive wool
carpeting. Nothing worked.
People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The
maid quit. Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.
A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer
for their stinky house. Word got out and eventually the local realtors refused to return He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, bald wrinkled, fat, gray, decrepit son-ofa-gun asked, "What did you teach?"