The husband sits silently behind the wheel, eyes fixed on the road. Without warning, his wife turns to him and says in a cold, steady voice, “I know we’ve been married over twenty years, but I want a divorce.” The husband doesn’t respond. His grip tightens slightly on the steering wheel as he nudges the speedometer up to 45 mph.

She presses on, “Don’t bother trying to change my mind.” Then, with deliberate cruelty, she adds, “I’ve been sleeping with your best friend—and he’s a much better lover than you.” The husband remains silent, but his knuckles whiten as he accelerates to 55 mph. Unfazed, she pushes further. “I want the house,” she demands. The car speeds up to 60 mph.

“The car too,” she continues. 65 mph. “And I’m taking the bank accounts, all the credit cards, and the boat!” The vehicle drifts dangerously toward a concrete bridge. Finally unnerved, she snaps, “Well? Don’t you want anything?” The husband replies calmly, “No, I’ve got everything I need.”

“Oh really?” she scoffs. “What could you possibly have?” Just before impact, he turns to her with a chilling smile. “The airbag.” The car slams into the wall at full speed—leaving no doubt about his final, devastating reply.