I’ve been procrastinating badly on an action/fight scene because they’re hard (she whined most pitifully), and now that I’ve decided I’m going to finish it today if it kills me, I realized I forgot to ask my husband a question about incendiary devices. I know from past experience he doesn’t care for being called on a jobsite with questions like Would your cheapo studfinder be able to locate a metal chip inside a person? Apparently having to work for a living is hell on the sense of humor.
I do wonder if I ever make him nervous, though.
Things I’ve asked my husband over the years and the answers I received:
Me: Could a guy sabotage a car by pissing in the gas tank if he was careful not to get his *cough* stuck in the filler pipe?
Him: How the :censor: would I know?
Me: Can you show me how to steal your snowmobile without the key?
Me: If I shot you in the face, but it was only with a .22, could you still call 911?
Him: Yes, but after I divorced you and you served your prison time, you’d have to actually get a job, so think about it.
Me: It’s research for a book.
Him: Oh. Then it would depend on the distance and the angle.
Me: Could you jam a .9mm slide with bubble gum?
Him: Somebody already wrote McGuyver. Write your own book.
Me: How do you think they get the food on Air Force One? I mean, do you think you could smuggle C-4 on board disguised as a juicebox?
Him: Tell me you are not looking that shit up on the internet. If they come knocking on our door I’ll throw you under the bus so fast you’ll bounce and get stuck in the undercarriage.
Me: They probably gave me some kind of fiction writer flag after the stuff I was googling about Guantanamo Bay.
I think it’s probably much more fun being my spouse than being his spouse. Typical questions he asks me:
Have you seen the sheer pins for the snowblower?
Have you seen that meter socket I left on the porch?
What’s for dinner?
I don’t know, but I wouldn’t drink the juiceboxes.