I heard three guys talking about fucking my wife and two of her friends.

I have brass knuckles.

The next week I got to the first guy. Wearing a ski mask, I beat the shit out of him.

The next week my first friend, wearing a ski mask, took out the guy who had been mainly fucking his wife.

The next week my second friend, wearing a ski mask, took out the third guy, who had mostly been fucking his wife.

My wife found a new man, and I hit him the day after his first evening with my wife, and put him in the hospital for a long time.

After the third guys beating, the three women got together and figured it out.

A few days later, we had a BBQ in our yard with my two friends and their cheating wives.

After we’d eaten and were relaxing with some drinks my wife started the conversation.

“You found out about us, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said innocently.

“We’ve been having flings with Tom, Dick, and Harry at work. And now all three are in the hospital, badly beaten with brass knuckles, according to the doctors.”

We each set our brass knuckles on the patio table, along with our ski masks.

“I guess you figured it out!” I said sounding amazed. “Of course we were all three fishing when those attacks happened.”

“The police will figure it out when we turn you in,” my wife said smugly.

“And don’t forget Lance,” I added.

My wife gasped that I knew about her latest.

“Now, you have to figure out when we’re going fishing next and when we’re going to get tired of hitting the guys and start thinking about you.”