Vince threw himself into his Trans-Am, the gear shift into D and the car onto the road. No way was he going to be cuckolded by some silicon slattern. Hurtling through the night, powered by his hate, Vince felt invincible. He was a juggernaut of justice, out to rid the world of dishonesty and cheating. He felt the power of self-righteousness beneath him, carrying him towards this foregone conclusion.

A tiny niggle of doubt cracked his certainty, a little worm writhing in his brain. He pictured the web page that he used to talk to her. He could see that stupid ad for that online game at the top – that one that tries to sell a bad in-browser game to teenage boys using their hormones. Then, beneath that, the heading “Talk to your true love online…” And then, that wondrous area where they shared so many intimacies.

But now in his mind’s eye he looked lower, and spotted the small text disclaimer “GayBot is a service provided in strictest…” Vince turned his car around. He wondered if he should tell Nathan.

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