He fell back on the floor, not knowing what just happened to him. When his wits were about him, he decided it was safe to stand up again. "What is she trying to do", he thought. His wife was standing in the hallway, brandishing a shovel as if she were a Samurai wielding a katana.

"If you think you can come home in this shape again, you have another thing coming!", she spat. "You are the reason I come home 'in this shape'", he fumed, ducking another swing from the shovel. He ran towards his basement door, narrowly dodging a salt shaker flung through the air by his significant other.

"What the hell is wrong with that woman?", Jack thought, as he sprinted down the stairs, locking the door behind him. He settled into his chair, and flipped on his television, hoping she wouldn't try to pick the lock again. After several minutes, he decided the coast was clear and he went over to his workbench, turning up the volume on his tv before doing so.

This is what he lived for, his work in the basement, and nothing else. He had put several years into finishing this workspace to emulate the space he had at his day job. At work, he was just another technician. But down here, in his domain, he was a God...

At that moment, the door burst open and Jenny came barreling down the stairs, "What in the hell are you doing?", she screamed. "Do you not realize that I demand your respect, and you running from me to your 'hideout' does not cut it?", Jenny bellowed. "Sweet lord, relax baby," Jack cooed. "I thought the best way to calm you down was to leave you alone for a bit."

"You're drunk again!", Jenny bellowed.