At a job years ago in Oklahoma, one of our secretaries had terrible trouble with a husband who was a drinkin' foolin' around kinda guy. Every Monday, she'd sob into her coffee during break and tell us of some new offense by Mr. Wrong. We all kept trying to support her, telling her she was better than that, that she needed to boot the creep out, show him th door, etc.

finally, one Monday, Gloria came to coffee break with a very satisfied look on her face. What happened? we asked.

Well, Gloria says, Mr. Wrong did it again Saturday night -- stayed out 'til 2 in the morning, drinking and misbehaving, and when he came in, he unmistakably had the smell of another woman on him.

"I didn't say anything to him that night," she says, "I just let him go to bed and pass out. But the next morning early, while he was still sleeping it off, I went and got the SuperGlue and glued his little red rooster to his thigh. When that boy woke up, he was in a world a' pain."

(Don't know if that rates as a prank or just decent karma...)

WW