Concise

I don't like to waste words; if you require 7 pages of text this isn't for you.

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The basics: I'm Van, six three, 210, wrestled in college at 195, a bad-ass (trial attorney) to men, a formerly perfect gentleman to women. I'd been married to Lisa for twenty years without any real stress in our relationship until I read in the Post about her being romantically linked to a billionaire businessman (who I didn't even know she knew) while I was at trial in NYC. One phone call to my secretly jealous sister-in-law confirmed the accuracy of the Post article.

Fortunately I had already prepared my closing argument and, actor that I am, delivered it flawlessly the next day. Waiting 1½ days for the jury to come back I ignored Lisa's texts and phone calls. I used that time to think how best to hurt Lisa like she hurt me without involving our two teenagers. I smiled at how bad-ass I was, even though my vitriol would be directed toward a woman for the first time.

I called the kids and asked them to spend the night at a friend's the evening I returned. Lisa was waiting.

"Van, honey, I wasn't able to get ahold of you..."

"Shut the fuck up, Cunt. I confirmed your cheating and it's the perfect excuse to get rid of you without looking like the bad guy," I snarled.

Lisa was shocked by my contempt, sputtering like a jalopy.

"You were always just a cunt to me but as long as you were only my cunt I put up with you," I continued.

As tears flowed Lisa stammered "Bbbuuuttt you've said that you loved me every day of our married lives..." before I cut her off.

"That just means that I'm almost as good an actor as you are, me pretending to love you, you cheat-fucking up a storm. Now get the hell out of here before I start breaking every fucking Llardo Figurine in your prized collection starting with the 'Happy Anniversary' one."

It took breaking three, total value $2400, before her screaming exit. At her mother's house the next day she got my pancaked gold wedding ring engraved "Return To Cunt."

The female kick-ass divorce attorney in my firm executed a scorched earth policy including taking a two day humiliating deposition of Billionaire Boy which "somehow" leaked to TMZ, etc. He needed a thrashing but I wasn't about to go to jail for killing his bodyguards before I got to him, and his wealth presented a problem in exacting other types of revenge; but I had a plan.

My scorched earth policy frayed Lisa's nerves. Before she moved in with Billionaire Boy, for a hefty fee I orchestrated having a disgraced doctor make a house call to inject her with a "tranquilizer" (really chancroid-producing bacteria). Before the fluid-oozing ulcers appeared at her genitals she apparently infected Billionaire Boy by doing the dirty deed bare-back. Since chancroid is not a common STD in the U. S. and impossible to diagnose with a blood test (only diagnosable by a specialty laboratory analyzing the fluid which drains from an open sore) I'm quite confident that both Lisa and Billionaire Boy suffered significantly before being cured with a six month course of antibiotics.

I like to think, although I don't know for sure, that it was the chancroid that precipitated the public breakup of the lovers a mere ten months after I read the Post article about them.

Since our teenagers were humiliated by the publicity surrounding their mother, even though I was the one who filed for divorce and she related to them some of the brutish things I said during the divorce, they blamed her more than me. When I offered to take them on a two-month summer trip around the world and re-location to another office of my law firm 1500 miles away from the venue of their public mortification if they elected to live with me (both being of an age to choose) they readily accepted and Lisa could do nothing about it.

My divorce was chronicled in Continuing Legal Education courses in Family Law for a number of years, as well as getting a significant play in public forums. That only served to enhance my reputation as a courtroom orka (not a mere shark) and I had more business than I could handle at the highest hourly rate in my firm. Also, several young voluptuous women were surprisingly attracted to my reputation as a testosterone-driven Alpha male and post-marriage I did not suffer any diminution of my sex life.