Officer Neeley rounded the corner of Yancey Drive and drove up the street to his home. An old Chinese woman had suggested that quick dirty sex during the day was the key to keeping a marriage spicy. Mister and missuses Neeley had been severely lacking in the spice department for many a year now. Turning a plain old Wednesday into a true “Hump Day” would be just the ticket.

He pulled his cruiser to a stop a few houses down, hoping to surprise her. He already had half a hard-on when he opened the front door, but it quickly fell limp in his sudden confusion.

“Who are you?” the man sitting naked on the couch asked.

“Me? Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?” Officer Neeley blurted out.

“I come here every Wednesday, man,” the stranger said, “it’s our Hump Day tradition. I had no idea she was married.”

“Paul!” The last words of the late Mrs. Neeley began. She and her lover were shot repeatedly by her husband, who claimed temporary insanity. “What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday.”