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Tricks and No Treats
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It was a trick and not a treat that changed my life on Monday, October 14, 2013. The series of unplanned events began before lunchtime. My wife, Mia, and I had tried a new Mexican restaurant the previous night. When my stomach started rolling at about ten, I popped a couple of Tums and kept working. A trip to the company restroom at eleven was brutal and embarrassing. At least the smell it left behind was.
By eleven thirty, I was in my boss's office, begging for the rest of the day off. Since summer was officially over, our business had dropped off substantially, so he gave me the green light with a look of pity. I couldn't help but make one more trip to the head before departing.
Driving home, I remembered it was Mia's day off. She worked at the bank Wednesday through Saturday. I wanted to get in the house and lay down without bothering my wife. Mia had often swooned over me and my fickle stomach. I shook my head as I pulled up in front of our home. Mia had a horrible habit of taking up the entire driveway, especially when I wasn't expected home and often when I was.
Then, I got a silly idea to surprise her. We did little things like that to each other all the time even from our early days in college. It wasn't that we were trying to give the other a heart attack or something. It was always a little harmless trick here or a prank there. On that day, my purpose was neither. It was only to assure her that while I was sick, I was still in a good mood and just needed to rest so she wouldn't coddle me.
Our home, a gift from my Grandparents before they passed, sat on a little hill, like all the others on our side of the street. What appeared to be the basement from the front, was its own floor in the back, on the downslope, complete with a separate entrance. My Grandpa said it would be a good way for us to make residual income during the early years of our marriage. The floor plan was one great room, with a full bath and a kitchenette. I still hadn't bothered to find a renter - much to my Father's dismay - because I enjoyed going down there to watch Sunday football, alone or with a few friends from our neighborhood. I planned to sneak in that door and then go up and 'surprise' my wife.
I moved quietly alongside the house, past the kitchen then started down the few steps we'd installed last year. As I got to the lower patio, a window in the lower apartment was open, and I stopped in my tracks.
Mia was in my makeshift mancave talking to someone. It was weird because she never went down there ever since we bought the new washer/ dryer combo and had it installed in a closet upstairs. I stopped and squatted by the window to listen.
It didn't take long to hear a man's voice - a familiar voice. Another five minutes and I had a pretty clear picture of what was happening. The familiar voice belonged to Peter Jenson. He was a single neighbor five houses down and across the street. We had both met him about a month after moving in. Most of the homes in our neighborhood were little starters, so there were plenty of single people in our age range living there.
After listening to their planning session, I decided to quietly make my way back to my car on the street. Suddenly, my mind was outpacing my sick belly for dominance. As I drove around the side streets of our small town, I thought about how we got here.
I met Mia Swawl in our junior year at Ohio State University. She was going for a degree in accounting, while I was studying graphic arts. It wasn't love at first sight. I was more conservative than her. The problem with that - I wasn't conservative by any stretch of the imagination.
Mia could be best described as a free spirit, possibly because she was the baby of the family. She wanted us to date, but she wanted us to date others too. It took a while to become okay with it, but Mia seemed committed to only her studies. She rarely went out even with her girlfriends. Occasionally, though, I'd see her at the usual campus haunts with some guy and I couldn't help but compare myself to him.
Mia's parents lived in SoCal and were well off. They weren't wealthy, as in Beverly Hills, but they lived in an affluent area of Oak Park, a northeastern suburb of Los Angeles, and every home in their neighborhood was worth at least a million and a half. They'd worked hard for what they had, for sure. Her father, Gerald, owned two UPS franchises, a breakfast café and a high-end women's apparel store in a busy strip mall.
Mia had two older siblings - twins - named Brian and Brianna. In contrast, I was an only child and my parents had retired to a Vancouver high-rise the year I started college. Yes, they were much older than typical parents, and I'm pretty sure I was a 'mistake.' Still, they showed their love for me. I missed them a lot during those first few years.
Things changed at the start of our senior year. Mia was all over me from the minute she returned from summer break. I'd given a great deal of thought to our relationship during that summer. My biggest worry about going further with Mia was that being free-spirited and self-centered was a very bad combo.
We'd been off again - on again our entire junior year, but we were very close and rarely argued. With the extra attention that September, I re-evaluated. The things I liked about Mia, her endearment, her kindness, and of course, the fact that she was way out of my league led my decision-making.
I decided to see where things went. She was constantly seeking me out, even asking me out. Most of our 'dates' happened during the daytime hours. Backpacking, kayaking, and even bowling were on the menu. Mia had a quirk of taking selfies wherever we went. She said she liked to keep friends back home up to date on social media.
Then in mid-October, Mia sat me down for a little talk, which infuriated me from the get-go.
"Baby," she started holding my hand. "You know how I'm always taking selfies whenever we go out?"
I didn't think I was going to like what came next. She saw my expression and blushed.
"Well," she continued, "It's part of an elaborate prank I'm playing on my brother and sister, for Halloween. We do a lot of that in our family, kind of a tradition. When we were kids, it was mostly April Fools' but as we got older, being restricted to just that one day often spoiled the trick. When I was twelve, Brian and Brianna hid a small tape recorder under my bed, just before Halloween, strapping it to the box spring, and it played a half-hour of an almost inaudible monstrous hiss. Sometime the next day, one of them would go into my room and take the recorder, plug it in to recharge it, and then sneak back in and put it back under the bed.
"I was scared shitless," she went on. "I had mom and dad in there looking under the bed, not finding a thing. I was positive there was something evil in my room with me."
"And the point is?" I asked impatiently.
It's a tradition," she repeated. "I'm planning to drop our marriage on them."
"What?" I looked at her like she was crazy.
"The selfies," she said, "are to reinforce that we're a couple. I'm going to announce the day before Halloween that we eloped and are moving to Maine."
I just looked at her. I couldn't think of anything reasonable to say. She'd used me and the pretense of our getting serious, so she could execute an elaborate Halloween prank.
"Say something." She commanded. That was a bad move.
"What the fuck?" I posed it as a question. Without a ready response, I went on. "So, you're telling me now that our sudden romance was all a means to some sort of sick prank?"
"No, not just," she defended. "I do have feelings for you. That's the biggest reason why I'm letting you in on the prank now. The idea came to me because of those feelings. Lately, I've been fantasizing... wondering, what it would be like to be with you... forever."
"You're telling me you love me," I asked incredulously, "while using me? I'm missing something here."
"No," she quickly replied. "It's not like that. Well, it's sort of like that, but with no malicious intent. My joke on my siblings is separate from my feelings for you."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Are you saying you love me, Mia?" I asked point blank.
There was a slight hesitation, a moment in time that I wish I'd paid more attention to. "Yes," she answered confidently. "I believe that's exactly what I'm saying." Another pause. "Sure, we had our ups and downs last year. Still, you've grown on me and I thought about you quite a bit over the summer. Did you ever think about me?"
Truth time had arrived. "Yes," I said meekly.
"And not just... sexually?" she asked that one timidly.
"No, Mia," I told her. "I thought of you in other ways too. But we're so different. Even our families and childhoods. You get that, right?"
She leaned in to plant a smoldering kiss on my lips. "I know, but wouldn't that be part of the adventure?" I decided she had a point. I kissed her back because her kiss had got me hard, but also because I needed time to think.
We made love that afternoon, and stupidly, all thoughts of her 'prank' were gone. They were gone that night as I lay with her sleeping in my arms, envisioning our future. It really appealed to me. An older, wiser person may have reflected a bit more.
The trickery on her siblings went as planned, unabated by me. I even found myself getting in on the action. Common sense dictated that one good prank deserved another, and eventually, Brian and Brianna would want to get even. They'd find a way to do it, too. I was blinded by love in that regard.
After graduation, Mia and I married in a simple ceremony, attended by our immediate family. I think her parents wanted a big shindig but felt bad for my side's lack of possible attendees. Most of my aunts and uncles were deceased or debilitated, and then there was the age difference between us.
We moved to our small town, mostly so Mia could be close to her brother and sister. My grandparents' estate gifted me the home, and we began our simple little life.
I'd have to say I was darned happy, except twice per year. I dreaded the days leading up to April first, and the entire month of October. The twins repaid us by claiming their parents had been in a plane crash. They sent Mia YouTube footage of some other dated crash and she freaked out before taking time to look at the posting date.
Then, she seemed to side with them against me. Our first Halloween together, she called me from the bank just four days before the end of the month, claiming her car had been stolen from the parking lot. She sobbed uncontrollably, trying to explain her purse was inside the car. She said she'd gone right back into her place of work, where our checking and savings resided, and canceled all our cards, and changed passwords.
I suspected a rat, so, I went on my phone app to check accounts. I was locked out of all of them. Then I started to believe Mia and told her I'd be right there to pick her up. When I arrived, I comforted her for a few minutes until it started to rain. We got in the car and drove home solemnly. As we were walking into the house, Brian pulled up in Mia's car.
"Trick or treat!" Mia screamed at me as my face blushed in anger. Brianna was already inside preparing dinner and, by the time dessert was served, the three of them had found a way to light-heartedly dispense the anger I felt towards them. I told Mia later that night, no more pranks. I was sick of it and I didn't find it amusing.
But I got a call from Brianna in early March and she explained that Mia had told her about my anger and ultimatum. She wanted to help me give Mia a taste of her own medicine. Initially, I didn't go for the idea, but the more I thought it through, I decided it might give Mia a glimpse of the results of her pranks.
The prank was simple. Over the next week, or so, I moved small amounts of my clothing out of the house. Mia rarely looked in my drawers, so I started there. We'd met all the neighbors our age and did summer holidays and block parties with them, so it wasn't hard to find a guy, Greg, from the end of the street who was willing to keep my stuff in his spare room.
It was Brianna's job to draw out of my wife, the woman in our little group that she most disliked. What Mia told her was the same as my guess. Talia was a recently single mother of one, who lived two doors down from us. Mia thought she was constantly checking me out and she always got her dander up when Talia would find a way to talk to me while Mia was preoccupied with others at the parties.
I did the rest with my professional-grade graphics software. That first required Brianna and I to go to the municipal airport, on both a sunny and cloudy day, and take photos of me walking in. I looked stupid with my arm up at shoulder length, as if around my invisible friend. Then I found a stock female body, about the same dimensions as Talia, in jeans and a sharp top. I embedded that stock photo underneath mine and, finally, found a few photos of Talia's face from the block parties. I added her face to that stock body, making it look as though Talia had turned to look over her shoulder at whomever had taken the picture.
That was Brianna's play. She'd show my wife the photo of the skank I'd run away with and say she yelled "Homewrecker" as she snapped the pic.
I waited until the day of the prank, while Mia was at work, and pulled all but one hundred dollars from our checking account. I opened another account at the only other bank in town which we'd use as a vacation fund, post-trick, and did an electronic transfer of our entire savings, minus ten dollars.
Brianna and I agreed that for maximum believability, we'd spring the trap three days after Halloween. It worked perfectly. Eight minutes before Mia was to get off work at the bank, Bri started calling her. Mia returned the call from her car. Brianna acted hysterical trying to explain to her sister what she'd seen at the local Starbucks, how she followed me and the attractive blonde to the airport, and the picture she'd taken.
Afterward, Brianna admitted that Mia didn't believe her at first. When she arrived home, she was greeted with a 'Dear Jane' letter from me. It outlined my angst about the family pranks and my recent blooming relationship with Talia. I didn't think I was extremely brutal in the letter but, later, Mia confided that it was what I left out that made the letter more callous and hurtful.
After reading my note, Mia ran to our bedroom, finding all of my stuff gone. The timing also didn't allow Mia to get any answers from my place of employment. She did check her bank app and that's when she broke down.
The plan was for me to return home after nine, with the twins in tow. Mia was so heartbroken and in shock that Brian called me at seven, begging me to go home and end the trick. I did just that, hoping I hadn't gone too far.
The truth was, I hurt her badly. She wouldn't talk to me for two weeks, slept in the spare room, and wouldn't take any calls from the twins. She'd thrown them out of our house the night of the prank. Thanksgiving was a bust and if I had not been able to influence all of them to agree to a meeting, two days before Christmas, that wouldn't have happened either.
During those two months, I apologized profusely but also made it clear this was a result of her constant trickery. I made my case that there was no such thing as a 'practical joke,' and that all casual pranks, no matter the intention, had a victim and a price.
With the new year, things normalized. Mia and I got back to our own selves - loving and caring for each other. As April approached, I was on high alert, but no fool's play ever developed. I could tell that Mia also shared a bit of the mistrust I felt.
Here I was though, fifteen or so days from another Halloween, and it seemed Mia hadn't learned a damned thing. From what I'd overheard through that window, I thought I'd need to move quickly to protect myself. The plans she was hatching with Peter weren't a mere prank, by any stretch of the imagination. They were diabolical, even maniacal.
In those days, we still had mom-and-pop electronics stores and Radio Shack. In Battle Creek, we had both. As I headed there, I thought about the simplest way to thwart the entire thing. I could simply go home and tell Mia what I knew and put a stop to it. My next thought made me as sad as I've ever been.
The damage was already done. The cold, hard truth was that we'd already dented the framework of our relationship, and the trust and respect were severely diminished. Stopping her wouldn't repair or restore them. I supposed that the real trick or joke was on our marriage. There would be no children, no happily ever after. So, with that sad revelation, I pressed my foot firmly on the gas pedal.
Some items cost me a lot more than I'd expected, while others were cheaper. Sitting in my car taking stock, I laughed at the idea that I could start my own small-town PI business. It was nearly time to be home and I was forty minutes away, so I texted Mia, letting her know I had a project due and I'd be late.
Over the next two days, I did what I could when Mia was preoccupied or in the shower. For the rest, I left work each morning at eleven-thirty to complete while she was at work. I installed four micro-cameras, one for the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and our downstairs apartment. The apartment had a beat-up bookcase we'd put down there just to store books, magazines, and knick-knacks. The living room and kitchen were easy, too. Our bedroom presented a challenge because we only had a dresser and two nightstands. I finally settled on placing the camera on the dresser behind a snow globe that Mia had displayed there. I wouldn't get any clear recordings of infidelity but, if everything else went according to plan, I'd only need the blurred image of them in our marital bed.
I'd purchased an older phone tap, which amounted to a clunky thing that resembled an answering machine, to which I attached the extra cord to the phone and ran the wire through the same slot in the wall, down to the apartment. I hid the machine under a stack of books, which also made the wiring impossible to see. It was a simple voice-activated unit and answered calls would be recorded. I put a voice and text tracker on her cellphone.
Over the next twelve days, I knew every detail of their wretched trick.
For his part, Peter, we all called him Pete, seemed but a minor player. Still, he went along with the prank, and being a guy, I figured he was hopeful of some future payment from my nine-out-of-ten wife, and that payment would include her body. Hell, the way they planned it, he was already eighty percent of the way there, without any actual penetration. He didn't disparage me during their meetings and, in one conversation, he actually asked Mia if she was sure she wanted to go through with it.
The plan was simple and I learned the details over four additional meetings they had. Mia never communicated with him on her cell. All calls came from the home phone, setting up their next planning or practice sessions. What I learned and watched made me sick.
The first one, just a few days after I got the recording devices set up, gave me ninety percent of what I'd need to start divorce proceedings. Mia laid out the details of my debasement and humiliation.
She'd call my boss, whom she knew well, and say she had a surprise for me, the day before Halloween. He'd agree to let me off early, and she'd make sure to let him know that I wasn't to be alerted to the surprise. I thought that under normal circumstances, she'd already be taking a big risk of screwing up her joke. That time of year we all sat around throwing wadded-up paper into a wastebasket until a client called or walked through the door, then we'd work hard to meet the client's deadline.
In their plan, I'd come home, walk in, hear her in the bedroom, screwing the neighbor. This was another part of the plan with a huge risk factor. Since the upstairs, or first floor was on that hill, and our bedroom was basically situated near the front of the home, Mia and Pete discussed having the window open, and the screen previously removed. That was in case she couldn't calm me down, and it gave Pete an escape route of about four feet to the ground.
Mia was meticulous about how the simulated sex would go down. That was the main topic of their second meeting on October 23rd. Mia had purchased a micro bikini - that she claimed she'd wear for me, amongst other things she described doing to make things right after the fact. She had Pete trying to wear those silly bottoms to cover his junk. After going into our ensuite and returning twice, Mia realized how lame that idea was. He was a young fit guy, so she couldn't get the string hidden in his ass crack, and his dick was constantly hard, in anticipation of the 'practice' I guess, and kept flopping out of the barely 'there' fabric.
I was pissed for other reasons. This fucker was using my private bathroom to prepare himself to dry-hump my wife. They laughed and giggled and joked about his predicament, like a couple of school kids. The fact that Mia was making what looked like incidental contact with his genitals hit me the hardest. Finally, Mia took the bottoms to one of her 'regular' bikinis and cut off the strap that went over her behind, then tried taping just the front to Pete.
That only worked until they got on our bed - my fucking bed - and started practicing. The tape she'd used only stuck to the hair on Pete's legs, not his skin. As soon as he started his rhythmic movements against her covered crotch, the dreadful boner sprung from its confines, and rubbed against her panties.
As soon as she felt it, she stopped their little practice round. Despite what seemed like good intentions, I could tell by her voice that she was enjoying herself. She probably stopped him, so she didn't have to explain cum stains on the comforter.
The minute I stopped watching was the moment I knew for sure my marriage was dead. I'd been sitting in my car watching it all on my phone and it was time to go home. I couldn't imagine how I was going to act normally around her, so I stopped at the party store for a six-pack.
I was able to act distracted, making up an excuse about a problem at work I couldn't decide how to handle. She was all lovey and wanted me to tell her about it. I told her I'd rather be left alone to my thoughts and I think I kept her from sensing my true mood. That night did lead to my next concern, which was how was I going to handle her initiating sex until D-day.
The answer to that came the next day and it was a good thing. She wanted to fool around -hah, 'fool' around - but I'd resolved that I would simply fuck the crap out of her. I reasoned that our life together was over, so why shouldn't I take advantage of my beautiful wife for my pleasure?
That's what I did. I pounded my way through two orgasms, and to my surprise, she had at least four. Just one more thing I didn't know - she craved rough sex, something I normally didn't provide her.
I had plenty to do while working full-time. The first thing was to speak with the owner of the shop. Carl was about forty and was on his second marriage. I opened up fully to him and explained how my wife planned to reach out to him.
I found an attorney in the suburb on the other side of Battle Creek and made an appointment. I didn't want to risk exposure going to one of the two in our small town. All of the recordings would be saved so I could later manipulate them.
The pair's third meeting was a bit different and caused me yet another little shift. Mia must have decided that playing the prank in our bed would be taking things too far. Maybe she only worried that she'd never be able to explain it. Either way, the venue was changed to our living room. Pete offered to bring his video camera and tripod. His original idea was to watch their practice and make sure they were believable as I would walk in on the fateful day. Mia realized it was also a means to prove that 'nothing really happened.'
Somehow, watching them in all their glory, instead of the blurry, twisted forms through a lens, through a snow globe, only made things worse for me. Pete kept screwing with the camera angle. I wanted to scream through my phone that it wouldn't matter, not with the cheapest camera available at Walmart. My spy devices were doing a better job. Of course, he was an amateur and I played with pixels for a living.
At one point during their hour-plus encounter, Pete's giant gauze pad fell off, and he was again sliding his bare cock along my wife's covered slit. It was clear as day that she was enjoying herself. Another sickening thing between the two was how they 'played' along with each other like it was game night or something. Neither pushed the envelope; Mia never touched his dick and Pete didn't lean over her back and grab a handful of tits. But what they were doing, regardless of how 'clean' they tried to keep it, was way over the line. The worst part was how they had themselves convinced it was all good fun.
That gave me a new idea and one more thing to do. By their fourth meeting, on the 28th, just two days before showtime, I'd completed most of those things and had my plans solidified. The appointment with the attorney, Jon Cameron had gone well. He'd cautioned me about doing anything stupid when I walked into the house. Since it was all being recorded, by me and by my wife, who planned to use it to prove her innocence, Jon thought all of my recordings would be admissible. He warned me that knowing it was a prank and seeing it with my own eyes were two different things. Jon coached me to leave immediately and not to lose my temper. I think he knew what a gift of a case he'd been handed and wanted to ensure nothing went south.
I'd taken a small amount of our savings, to offset my costs thus far, and to book a hotel room until Mia could be legally removed from my house. I'd put a minimal amount of clothing from our room in one duffle bag and a backpack. Mia would never notice. Then I spoke to my boss again. After listening to him being empathetic, he made it clear that whatever I did, it wasn't to come back on his company in a negative way. He promised to play along with whatever Mia asked him and not give anything away.
That last meeting was a mixed bag for me. It was clear that that day was Pete and Mia's idea of dress rehearsal as both wore their stupid masks. For the first time in two weeks, I was reminded that we were hosting the neighborhood Halloween party as we had the past two years. Besides neighbors, some of Mia's co-workers would be there, and most likely, Brian and Brianna. That added another two things to my list of things to do, which I did, right after watching their morning together.
After about twenty minutes and several minor camera adjustments, the two pranksters sat on the sofa with cups of coffee. I noticed Pete was sitting much closer to my wife. I think the irony was lost on them. Mia must have thanked him a half-dozen times for helping her with the trick.
Pete reiterated his concerns: was Mia sure this was a good idea? What if she underestimated me? What if I became violent? Could it potentially cost her marriage?
Mia calmed all of his fears. Then he asked the obvious and all-important question: why? My wife's answer shocked me.
"Because of what he did last year," she stated with a far-off look. "Troy hurt me. My brother and sister too. Originally, I felt betrayed by my siblings, but I soon worked through that. We'd all been playing tricks on each other for as long as I can remember. I won't say I've never played a hurtful prank but Troy pretending to leave me for another woman... did something to me, inside. It took some time to identify exactly what it was. I'd lost trust. Not all of it, but some parts of me had less trust in my husband than before.
"We rallied," she continued, "and put it behind us. But the bad thoughts never really went away. I'm hoping that making him experience what I felt will tip the scales back to balance."
What a stupid woman, I thought shaking my head. Two wrongs never make a right. But then Peter verbalized my next thought.
"But," he said carefully, "it's not the same thing, is it? I mean, he implied cheating, by pretending to leave with another person, but you're taking it up a notch. What if he feels even worse than you did? How long will it take for Troy to get over it? I don't know, it just seems an incredible risk to take."
There was my neighbor, playing the good guy again. When Mia claimed she didn't know the answer to his questions, I finally saw the side of Pete he'd been successfully hiding.
"Well, besides the sex you've already promised to compensate me with," he smiled coyly. "If things don't work out, I'm putting my hat in the ring right now, as your first backup option."
Mia laughed. "Hold up there, Romeo," she teased. "I promised you a handjob and if I'm in a good mood that day, were my exact words, a blowjob. I'm not looking to replace Troy. I never said anything about sex or intercourse."
Their juvenility made me want to puke. Pete was exactly the lothario I'd originally thought him to be, except he was the meek, mild-mannered kind - the kind who played the long game - while maintaining his halo. Still, it struck me again, what guy would pass on a woman like Mia?
Mia's idea of revenge was so extreme that I had to ask myself why I'd never noticed this side of her. I knew the answer. Just like Peter, I'd been thinking with my small head. But Pete was sitting right there, knowing what they were about to do, understanding and even asking about the implications, and he didn't see it either. He wasn't bad-looking and at the neighborly get-togethers, he usually had a date. Not a nine, like Mia, but an average seven-point-five. At that point, I half-expected, and probably wouldn't even mind seeing her dish out a handjob or blowjob. All the important damage was done.
I spent that night in the downstairs apartment, clipping and splicing all the recordings. Sitting in a chair facing the staircase, I did it two more times until I was satisfied with the finished product. Mia never came down, but when I went to bed, she was waiting.
"Baby, I'm horny," she said devilishly. "Come give your bad girl some lovin."
I did just that. It would almost certainly be the last time I ever had sex with the woman I'd always considered out of my league. Why not end the dream with a bang?
Again, Mia had several orgasms and complimented my roughness and determination. She actually said 'determination,' as if that was somehow part of screwing your wayward wife into the mattress. I was moving through the five stages of grief at breakneck speed.
The next day, Tuesday, the 29th, I was off work, thanks to Carl giving me the extra time. I drove into Kalamazoo where there was a Halloween megastore. I was hoping they still had the costume that caught my eye last year. It would be perfect for my incognito Halloween party appearance.
Most young men learn life lessons and, hopefully, not by ending up in prison. For instance, we learn that no matter how well you've planned for a certain situation, things can always come off the rails. That's what happened to me just after ten thirty in the morning on October 30.
I'd psyched myself up all the way home. I'd taken several deep breaths while driving down my street, madly playing through the encounter I was walking into. Things took a left turn, fast.
As I opened the door, Peter did the one thing I hadn't expected. The lovers were in the middle of our living room floor, simulating doggy-style sex. The positions were almost identical to the recording I'd watched. They weren't quite at a forty-five-degree angle to me - that might have exposed some view of her panties or his stupid gauze pad.
Pete looked over his right shoulder and smirked. It was nothing ostensive even though I knew the look meant, 'I'm going to fuck your wife, someday, if all goes well,' instead of, 'Hey I'm fucking your wife right now.' I lost it.
Mia had a vase on the entry table, a gift from her mother. I'm sure it was expensive. It didn't have any flowers in it or any of that dead wheat bullshit that's trendy. It was empty.
I just picked it up and threw it. Honestly, I'd meant to throw it over both their heads, but it was bulky - maybe twelve or so inches tall and wide in the middle. It weighed at least two-and-a-half pounds or more. I'll say it slipped as I let it fly but only to exonerate myself. Being five or less feet away in the distance, Peter had no time to react or block the object. It hit him hard on the side of the head.
As he fell off to the side, Mia was so into character that she turned towards me to deliver her lines. "Oh my God! Troy!" she repeated the words I'd heard her practice. "What are you doing home? I can expla..." That's where she ended. By that time, the sound of the broken vase and the low moaning of her mock boyfriend finally caught up with her pea-brain. She turned away from me, in the other direction to see what happened to Pete.
"You fucking bitch!" I screamed and walked out the door. Backing out of the driveway slowly, I stopped in the street before putting the car in drive. I'll admit I was curious to see if she'd chase after me or attend to her co-conspirator. I guess he won that round.
Halfway down our street, my mind started forming coherent thoughts again. It was highly likely that Peter would need medical attention. I may have even killed him. My first thought was to run but, almost immediately, I wanted to turn around. Instead, I did neither. Pulling into a convenience store across the main road from our block, I pulled around back, where I had a view of my street.
Ten minutes later, I saw Mia's car speeding out into the intersection, turning left towards the hospital. That told me I had time. No cops and no ambulance, so they would probably be getting their story straight. I did not doubt that the police would talk to me. The guy had been assaulted and the hospital would need to report it, regardless of what Pete and Mia said. If they tried to cover it up - some slip-and-fall story - the cops would still be suspicious.
What Mia did by driving him was to give me time. I drove back to my house to remove all the recording devices.
There was a lot of blood on our living room floor which scared me all over again. Mia's vase was cracked in half with a large piece lying around in little bits and bloodied. The large gauze pad was indeed not on the floor, so Mia probably had used it for its intended purpose. I took all four cameras and then, I headed downstairs to get the phone recorder.
I grabbed a few more shirts and two pairs of shoes and took my spare toothbrush. No telling how long I'd be gone. If Pete filed a police report, I might be gone for a long time.
An hour later, I was checked into a Holiday Inn on the north side of Battle Creek. It was near the Kellogg's plant and intended for the many executives and sales reps that did business there. I still hadn't heard a peep from my wife.
My lawyer, Jonathan, was pissed. We spent forty minutes on the phone talking about how I needed to handle each possible scenario. He wanted me to get him the surveillance footage of the incident before doing anything else, which I did. Jon told me to stay at the hotel and not to go anywhere, except the lobby.
A light dinner at the hotel bar, and several beers later, found me floating between anger and melancholy. I wanted to blame Mia for everything. It would be easy to do. I now hated her fiercely.
In reality, I'd been complicit as well. Was I just as bad as Mia? I'd planned my own prank to offset hers. I could have just moved out before that day and told her we were finished. Back in my room, I was focused on completing my task. Splicing together the recordings of their 'practice' sessions was easy. It was even easy to make it look like they were having sex for real. That was their fault more than my skill.
At about nine-thirty, I received a text from Mia:
"Troy, where are you?" she began. "I know you're upset, but I need you home. I'm sorry. Can you please call me?"
"Home?" I typed. "I'm three states away. Is he dead?"
"No! he has a concussion and a large cut on his head. He's staying overnight in the hospital. Why did you do that?"
I had no idea if she was telling the truth and that was perhaps the saddest part. The cops could be standing next to her right then.
"I thought you were being raped," I typed, covering my ass. "Until I saw your face. Then I knew that you'd only been caught. I hope he was worth it."
"It was a prank," I could almost hear her sign through her typed words. "Please come home so I can explain. Police don't seem to buy our story but nothing is going to happen to you tonight. I need to apologize face to face."
Then after another minute, "I need help cleaning up for the party tomorrow."
She'd officially lost her mind. "Not sure I'm ever coming home," I typed and backspaced and typed some more. "You of all people knew what would happen if you ever pulled another prank like this - which I'm not sure was a prank. Fuck UR party and FUCK you 2"
I didn't want to discuss anything with her, even texting. I shut off my phone.
In the morning, I took my laptop to the information center in the lobby and loaded the putrid, green-colored paper into the hotel's printer. Then, after I was finished, I borrowed scissors from the front desk and went back to my room. After cutting the printed pages into small strips, I turned my phone back on.
To my surprise, Mia hadn't called or texted again. That had to be the twins doing. They were the only people she knew who were smart enough to tell her to leave me alone and give me some time to cool down. Normally, that would have been sound advice.
After an entire day cooped up in the hotel, it was time to get ready. I went online and into my wife's FaceBook page. She'd be busy getting ready for a big Halloween to-do. I changed her login credentials and then posted some of the video clips I'd made.
"My best and last Halloween prank," I placed the heading.
"This one should teach my husband who's the boss around here." I posted not only their practices, which I made to look like the real thing but also some of their pillow talk. At least I made it look that way. Then I posted them getting ready for the real thing yesterday morning. Setting up their camera and getting the angles right. Pete joked about how hard he was getting, thinking about what was to come. Mia gave him a little squeeze through his pants. Then a few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, naked as a jaybird, as Mia helped place his little gauze patch over his throbbing cock. It would only be a minute or two later, as he lined up behind her, being liberal with his hands all over her torso.
"He's gonna freak out," Pete said manically.
"I know," said my wife over her shoulder. I ended that clip just before picking up the vase.
The website was a different story. I made it look like a space that had been created by Peter, showing all his dreams and aspirations of being with Mia - even more maniacal - with extended clips detailing his seduction.
I put some of Mia's best hits - quotes in her own words - making it appear she wasn't only enjoying the seduction, and Pete's boner, but planned to give him her all, at a later date.
The full-sized bear costume was terribly hot inside. I wouldn't be able to stand it for long. Thankfully, it had pockets for all my little strips of paper, which simply said, "My naked Halloween prank," followed by the website address.
The Uber guy pulled up in front of my house. I'd waited to make my appearance until the party was already in full swing, about thirty minutes.
"Wait here," I instructed my driver. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes tops. I'm leaving my wallet in the back seat. Write down your name, and let's go write down the license plate too."
He didn't like my lack of trust, but it was Halloween after all. I wandered up to my front door.
The party was in full swing in the apartment downstairs. Eyeholes in the costume were above the fake bear eyes and were thin slits covered by the brown hair. It was very difficult to see where I was going.
Mia greeted me on the stairwell heading down.
"Hey," she said jovially. "Who are you?" I didn't answer and she chuckled. "Sorry, that was a dumb question.
"I'm Barry, the new guy at 'Signs R Us.'" I said, trying to disguise my voice. "Troy invited me."
Mia shook my hand. "Right," she replied. "Do you know if any of Troy's other co-workers are coming?"
I shook my head and went past her down into the apartment. After fixing a drink, I went over to a few of the ladies who worked with Mia at the bank and made small talk. It was just as well that they were boring as hell. I needed to get on with it.
Trying to be inconspicuous, I headed to the upstairs restroom. I spread a few of the paper slips on the sink and floor. Then I went out and did the same in the kitchen, where Mia had set up the snacks and appetizers. Tossing a few on the table, sink, and countertops, I headed back down the stairs.
There were about thirty or so people there. I knew Brian and Brianna because they always wore the same costumes. Quite a few of our neighbors were there, too. Mia was in for quite a night.
I made myself another mixed cocktail which I had no intention of enjoying. I dropped a few more slips of paper by the mixers and what was left in my pockets, I dropped on the floor as I headed upstairs.
By the time I got the costume head off, and into my Uber, I saw Mia standing at the door with the twins at her side, looking for the 'bear,' I presumed.
I went to my room, logged into her social media, and changed the passwords back, after adding a new post - "Party a big success. Don't forget to check me out at https://_____"
The call came at eleven-thirty. I'd turned my phone on in anticipation.
"Hello, Troy," she said bemused, with a tinge of bitterness. "Enjoy the party?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told her.
"Sure, you don't," she replied quickly. "Nice costume by the way. I guess you thought you were the bigger bear."
I didn't answer that.
"So," she continued, "can you come home now so we can start repairing this, or do you have more revenge planned for me?"
"Oh," I said with a chuckle, "I'm done but I think you have bigger problems at the moment than me coming home."
"Probably," she said more quietly, consoling. "We'll see. I told everyone what you did for a living, and how we always play pranks on each other. I'm pretty sure I've got them all believing that those videos are fakes."
Well, she was clearly better at pranks and lies than I was. She forged onward.
"The problem is that you just pissed off Peter to the point where he's talking to the cops in the morning." She was quiet, letting that sink in, and then, "I need you home so we can present a united front and I can help you."
"Fuck off, Mia," I'd had enough. "I'll take my chances. Why not go up to the hospital, give him what you promised to give him and maybe change his mind?"
"I've thought about just that, most of the night," she paused, and finally with a long sigh, said, "Look, Troy, I've fucked up. This has turned into a mess of epic proportions. I don't know what to do. I don't want to see you in jail. This has been a horrible mistake!" I could hear crying.
"Of your own making, Mia," I told her somberly. "Listen to me. We're done. Don't spend a lot of time worrying about me. I've been to an attorney. You need to figure out what you want from the house because sooner than later, you'll be getting some visitors, paperwork, and an eviction."
"But I didn't do anything!" she cried out, sobbing.
"You might want to spend some time tomorrow watching those videos before I take the site down," I said firmly. "Then tell me you did nothing. As far as I'm concerned, you've been having sex with him long before I found out."
Mia gasped. "I have not! It was a... a prank. I can prove it."
"And my videos prove otherwise," I said, getting angrier by the moment. "So does yours. Pete's video camera proves exactly what mine does. You fight me on a divorce and I'll let everyone see the unedited versions of all your little rendezvous and the cute little conversations the two of you had, planning to make a complete fool of me."
Mia was done, and she knew it. In the silence that followed, I could almost hear her mind going over the details of their meetings, and what was said.
"I'm sorry, Troy," she told me, possibly even sincerely. "I never meant to hurt you. I need you to know that was never my intention."
"Whether you meant to, or not, that's exactly what you did." I ended the call and blocked her.
I sat there, drinking several beers, introspective over my situation. I still loved the crazy bitch but, in replaying everything, there was more unsaid than said.
Mia never said she loved me. That, alone, was telling and it made me feel empty. She never asked how I found out, either. Finally, she didn't tell me anything she discussed with her buddy at the hospital. I fell into a profound sorrow, losing my wife and probably my freedom all at once.
Sunday was filled with calls and texts from friends, workmates, and some family members. I didn't hear from Mia's parents and didn't expect to. They were probably elated. My mom called and after getting my side of the story, implored me to come spend some time with them when this was over. She and Dad offered to help me with any legal fees if it came to that.
My conversation with Brian and Bri went about how I expected. They'd seen the video clips and had heard Mia's side. Brianna admonished me, while Brian was more subdued.
"She screwed up, Troy," he said sorrowfully. "Isn't there any chance that the two of you could work this out? Go to counseling or something?"
When I told him there was no chance, he reminded me that in his book, we'd both played equally hurtful tricks. I agreed to disagree. We both offered respectful goodbyes, knowing it was unlikely we'd speak to each other again.
Monday, I found out later, that Mia was served at home. She initially refused to leave the domicile, but when the police arrived, she apparently had been wise enough to have a bag packed. I found out after the fact because, about the same time that she was being tossed, I was being arrested by some other nice law enforcement people. Peter, embarrassed, ruined for his part in playing with a married woman and causing a split, felt it was a move he had to make.
My one call didn't go well. Jonathan screamed at me through the phone. "I told you not to do anything crazy," he yelled. "And what do you do? You create an entirely new definition for crazy!"
Jon finally settled down. He told me he'd take care of the divorce but would not help me with my legal problems with the assault. He referred me to another attorney in his town and later that afternoon, I was sitting in a room with Bryce Walters. I'd seen his picture on a few billboards in town.
"Very clever," he began. "Playing a Halloween prank, describing a Halloween prank."
I didn't get his meaning. "So, how much did my wife pay you and Jonathan?"
I went to make him understand, and he waived me off. "Just a little joke," he chuckled. Then he got down to business. I would be arraigned in the morning, and I gave him my parents' number to discuss funding for bail. He wanted to view the website today, and then have it preemptively taken down. We'd meet again on Wednesday, and he'd also call my boss, Carl, for me.
Walking into my house late Tuesday afternoon, I took stock of what Mia had taken with her and plopped down hard on my sofa. Then I remembered Peter sitting right in that spot, buck-assed naked and I got up and went down to the apartment. Mia hadn't been vindictive. She'd taken a good amount of her clothing and all her personal items. All the furniture was in the house when it was given to me. All except our master bedroom set, and I didn't intend to sleep there until it was all replaced.
Mia had left a letter on the kitchen table. She was sorry. She'd said that a lot. She also said she didn't want a divorce - more than once. She didn't expect me to reply to her letter, not while everything was still so raw, but she felt that after some time we could find a way to reconciliation. She'd moved in with Brianna and had gotten a lawyer. Mia had told her attorney she wanted to fight for her marriage and was willing to do whatever it took. There was nothing unexpected in her letter, even when she asked me to take down the website. She said she wasn't in trouble at the bank but asked to relocate to a branch close to her sister's house. I knew she was embarrassed despite the geography issue.
The next two months were hectic but also things were returning to normal. Jon told Ms. Holmes, Mia's lawyer, that reconciliation wasn't in the cards. That wasn't acceptable so, Mia and I would end up in court.
On the other front, Mr. Walters was going back and forth with the district attorney on a settlement. After seeing the videos, the DA was reluctant to go all in, whereas a guy threw a vase in response to a stranger in his home screwing his wife. I think that smirk paid dividends, and Mr. Walters exploited that as well. We made the point again that I felt I was walking in on a rape. The DA pointed out that since I had previously recorded their trysts and conversations, he could easily make the case for premeditation.
I knew, and Bryce confirmed that it was mostly legal posturing. He'd countered to the DA that introducing the surveillance tapes would open the door for Walters to introduce the videos from that fateful day, and good luck trying to find a jury in our small town willing to convict me.
Peter still went forward and didn't drop the charges. I think, in the end, both attorneys were weary. I didn't think Pete had a choice other than to leave town. I didn't blame him. He'd been lured in by some nine-star pussy. He didn't go looking for it, although he never put a stop to it either. Then he paid the price.
Seeing him in court made me feel even worse. Pete had a three-inch gash in his head, and the hair didn't grow so good there. He also had a twitch in his right eye. My lawyer assured me he'd spoken to Peter's physician and that was only temporary.
With just some minimal facial make-up, Pete wouldn't need to buy a Halloween mask for quite a while.
In the end, I pleaded to a misdemeanor and got forty hours of community service.
Mia and her attorney were able to get the judge to order three counseling sessions. I explained the trust issues, and the respect issues, and the therapist seemed to want to opine about how we had pranked and hurt each other equally. So, I played my last trick - one prescribed by Jon.
"I understand what you're saying," I spoke directly to our counselor. "But the reality of the situation is, I've discovered that I just don't love Mia like I thought I did. I've come to realize that if I did, I would have taken one of the many other options available to stop what she was doing and try to save us."
The day our divorce was final, Mia caught up to me in the courthouse parking lot.
"Can I buy a stranger a cup of coffee?" she asked, hopefully. I nodded and we headed across the street to a little coffee shop. After ordering we sat down and I looked at her, waiting for her to get things started. She looked just as beautiful as always. Mia seemed at a loss for words.
"Can I come by tomorrow," she started. "Just to check and make sure I have everything?"
"Anytime," I said sincerely, and getting a bit worked up. I guessed she'd have that effect on me for some time.
"Did you really mean what you said at the therapist's office?" Well, there it was.
"Sorry, Mia," I told her, stifling back a tear. "I did. I hope you have a great life. See you tomorrow."
That was it. Mia moved home to Southern California. She was finally able to use her degree. She married some guy, got divorced after two years, and then married a daytime soap opera star. That one lasted four years.
>>>>
That was ten years ago. I'm sitting here reading what I wrote in my journal about the end of Mia and I, because my wife Hailey has just asked if we can have a Halloween party this year. I met her while doing that community service, and we've been together since. The most we've ever done on Halloween was take the kids to our church event, with games and candy. She knows my story with Mia, well mostly. I trust her, and I think I trust myself now. With two young children, my own print business, and a loving wife, I just don't want to screw it up. Maybe I'll agree to the party if we draw up a prenup that strictly prohibits any pranks!
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Posted on : Mar 31, 2025
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