Hi Fred, This is Alan next door. I have a confession to make.
I’ve been riddled with guilt these past few months and have been trying to get the courage to tell you to your face, but I am at least now telling you in text as I can’t live with myself a moment longer without you knowing.
The truth is I have been sharing your wife, day and night when you’re not around, in fact, probably more than you. I haven’t been able to get it at home recently, but that’s no excuse, I know. The temptation was just too much. I can no longer live with the guilt and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies and forgive me. It won’t happen again. Please suggest a fee for usage and I’ll pay you.
Fred, feeling betrayed and furious, dropped his iPhone, grabbed his gun, burst through his neighbor’s front door and without saying a word shot Alan dead. He returned home where he poured himself a stiff drink, sat down on the sofa, picked up his phone and saw he had a second message from his neighbor:
ALAN’S SECOND MESSAGE:
Hi Fred, This is Alan next door again. Sorry about the typo on my last text.
I expect you figured it out anyway, and that you noticed that darned Auto-Correct changed ‘WiFi’ to ‘Wife.’
Technology, huh ? !
A wrong number text …