Talk:Hellhound/@comment-187.237.14.244-20160520195514/@comment-28027028-20160520202242

With my crafting skills, I alter the gown into a manlier plaid kilt and one strap muscle tee. She gets a bit irritated that I wouldn't just do as she ordered, but she's grown used to my playful rebellion. I arrived at the Wedding looking like William Wallace won the Thunderdome, my soon to be wife smirking at me clad in a completely impractical set of metal lingerie. I look at her, impressed at she nearly bends the metal with her curves. I walk up to her, and I lean in and whisper. "Wife is a stronger title, babe, you should have it....husbands are weak and need protectin'.."

Her eyes grew wide and puffed some fire. "You're right!" She exclaimed grabbing me close, "My silly clown husband!" In retrospect, good day, didn't have to wear a dress and instead of Harley-chan do you take this man to be your wife she just changed it to Banana Hammock-clad Slave-boy, only problem is she makes me wear this completely unflattering speedo and bow tie collar on sunday and she makes me act like she's my sugar momma on those days. My wife is weird.