Marriage License

HUSBAND clips his nails from atop his toilet, pants around one ankle. WIFE calls from somewhere beyond the door.

WIFE: (off-stage) Sweetie?

HUSBAND: Yes?

WIFE: You’re not a secret agent, are you?

HUSBAND: Not to my knowledge, Dear.

WIFE: But if you were, you’d tell me, right?

HUSBAND: Of course, Dear. Why do you ask?

WIFE: Well…

Wife enters walking with a large case filled with an assortment of tactical gear, weapons, ammunition, blueprints for a “RAY” of one sort or another, and multiple forms of identification for multiple identities.

I was looking for a marriage license in the garage, but all I found was this old junk.

He looks at this, then to her. 

HUSBAND: Must be Bill’s.

She also looks at this, but then to him.

WIFE: These are Bill’s?

HUSBAND: (considers this) Fairly certain.

WIFE: These are Bill’s guns, turtlenecks, night vision goggles, and fake passports?

HUSBAND: The night vision goggles might be mine.

WIFE: (pouts) Are you sure you’re not a secret agent?

HUSBAND: (laughs) I think I’d remember signing up for something like that.

She picks up a passport from a small box of passports clearly marked, POTENTIAL FUTURE IDENTITIES. 

WIFE: Is this my identity? Were you planning on stealing my identity?

HUSBAND: (sighs) Honey, I’m disappointed in you.

WIFE: What?

HUSBAND: You went and spoiled your birthday present!

WIFE: My birthday present?

HUSBAND: Yes?

WIFE: Why would I want you to steal my identity for my birthday?

HUSBAND: Remember how you’ve been going on and on about how you wish you could just disappear, just run away and never look back and nobody would ever even know you were going?

WIFE: No.

HUSBAND: Well… It was supposed to be a surprise.

WIFE: (nods) I suppose that makes sense.

HUSBAND: Thank you.

WIFE: Are you sure you’re not a secret agent?

HUSBAND: Pretty sure.

WIFE: Well, okay.

She gathered up all the secret agent-like gear back into its box, and left.

I suppose I’ll call Bill and ask him to pick up his things.

He returns to clipping his nails, then…

HUSBAND: Don’t let him take my night vision goggles!

Another woman’s (WIFE #2) voice calls from beyond the door.

WIFE #2: (off-stage) What night vision goggles?

A completely different woman steps into the bathroom…

HUSBAND: Honey?

…and she sees him on the toilet, averts her eyes with an audible hiss.

WIFE #2: Why?!

HUSBAND: What?

She growls, points to the man atop the toilet with his pants wrapped around the ankle attached to the foot attached to the toe from which grew the nail he was currently stretching to clip.

WIFE #2: “Why” that!

HUSBAND: I’m clipping my nails. Why are you acting so weird? You were just in here.

WIFE #2: What? No, I just got home. I’ve been at my sister’s all week.

He looks at her, then to the door.

HUSBAND: Son of a bitch.