In the interests of both learning more about my "worthy" adversaries and
of ending this messy fight as quickly as possible, I have consulted a
number of prominent doctors to gather their takes on the matter. With
the combined resources of Doctor Hakresh s'Lessen, Doctor Paine
Saer'rac, and the artistic talents of Doctor Kuntar Semshan, I have
assembled the following simulation of a real household.

This baggy lime green sock with the badly applied makeup, elaborate
jewellery, and horizontal striped dress will be the woman in a normal
household, and this lemon yellow sock with the five o'clock shadow,
grizzled appearance, and the world-weary features shall be the man in a
normal household. For demonstration purposes, these shall be man and
wife.

As we can see in this diorama of a normal household, the wife is in the
household, doing her very best to make herself look pretty as the man
comes in from a hard day of work. He plops his hat down, takes off his
coat and, wearily but gladly, announces, "Honey! I'm home!"

The woman sock, her features lighting up immediately, gleefully greets
her husband with, "OI! IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU GOT HERE YOU RUTTING IDIOT!
DID YOU PICK UP MY DRESS FROM THE TAILOR?"

The man sock, with the look of sheerest grief says, "Oh, sorry dear. It
completely slipped my mind. I picked up some more jewellery for you
first thing, and then after work my friend Lenst came to me and asked
for a moment of help. His child is dreadfully sick you-"

The woman sock, features twisted in the purest rage, says, "OI! WHAT'RE
YOU DOING TRAIPSING AROUND WITH YOUR FRIENDS AFTER WORK?! YOU SAID YOU
WAS GOING TO PICK UP ME DRESS, AND I CAN'T EVEN COUNT ON YOU FOR THAT!
ME MOTHER WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOU, NOTHING BUT A USELESS SACK OF GOAT
KIDNEYS. FIRST YOU DON'T GIT ME ENOUGH JEWELLERY, THEN YOU STILL AIN'T
GOT ME MEDICINE FROM THE PHYSICIAN. I SHOULD'VE MARRIED THAT RAJAMALAN
CHAP FROM HASHAN, HE AT LEAST HAD HIS HEAD OUT OF 'IS ASS."

The man sock, his visage the very image of shame, regretfully says, "I'm
sorry, dear. I'll be sure to take care of it tomorrow without fail. Have
you made anything for dinner, pumpkin?"

"YOU CRAZY? YOU KNOW I'VE BEEN BUSY, I'VE HAD NO TIME TO BE COOKIN' ANY
OF YOUR FANCY PUMPKIN DELIGHTS."

"Of course, dear. I'm so forgetful. I'll have to go out and pick
something up immediately."

"OH, HEADING OUT AND LEAVING YOUR POOR WIFE ALL TO HERSELF AND HER
LONESOME AGAIN, GOING OUT DRINKING WITH THE 'BOOOOOOOYS.' HARDLY
SURPRISING BY NOW WITH HOW BADLY YOUR TREAT ME."

The man sock yet again bows his head in shame, saying, "Yes dear...how
selfish of me, putting my needs ahead of yours."

A knock at the door cuts off the woman's angry reply as she rushes over
to fling it open, revealing a stunningly handsome brown sock. An oiled
mustache, chiseled stitches, a cunningly cropped mop of curls, and a
beautiful rose clenched in sock teeth.

The woman sock, clearly shocked, says in a low voice, "Not now you
beautiful fool, my husband is home! Return tomorrow, we shall make
things beautiful."

The brown sock coyly raises his eyebrows before blowing a kiss,
disappearing from the doorway as mysteriously as he arrived.

The woman sock slams the door and stalks back into the living area to
give her husband another verbal beatdown when he says, "I love you,
dear."

The woman sock, speechless, stands with mouth working like a fish
gasping for air for a moment. She quickly regains her senses, loudly
declaring, "I NEED MORE SHOES, WHERE'S YOUR CUT FOR THIS WEEK?"

The man reaches into a pocket and fishes out a bag of gold, placing into
his wife's waiting hand. And as soon as the bag touches her hand, the
entire diorama explodes in a fiery conflagration.

...

This may have been a mere example, but this very same example is
happening in the real world every single day. Men cowed by women into
accepting the false order put in front of them, women not being found in
their proper place in the kitchen...these very same circumstances ARE
the leading cause of domestic explosions.

Be informed, Achaeans! The risks are real, many, and they are lurking
ever closer as we speak. Remember, doctors said so!

-Doctor Kuntar Semshan, Real Doctor. Real MANLY Doctor.

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Phaestian, in the year 472 AF.