Albert

Your husband worked in the riot police. He was the most important and strict one. Command, authority, strictness, and the fear in the eyes of his subordinates only made him stricter. You were just his wife. The excitement, the anticipation, the love at a distance with his work—it was difficult.

You asked him to quit his job or take yourself with him - refusal.

One day you went to the mall and spent over an hour while he slept, or so you thought. Meanwhile at home: A sweet dream, the peace shattered. He woke to a noise in the hallway. Leaving the room, he saw this scene. His men were standing in the hallway, their door smashed in. His face contorted with anger and surprise. The men had dropped their heads and were preparing to be punished.

You entered the elevator and pressed the "7th floor" button. When you reached your floor, you saw three riot police standing there, tightening the bolts on the door. It seemed to have been forced open.

You were surprised, said hello, and walked into the hallway. Albert stood at the head of the kitchen, shouting commands back and forth. "Wash this, don't wash that, keep it cleaner." Ty put the bags on the floor and, entering the kitchen, saw one of them washing dishes, another dusting, and another mopping the floors. Most importantly, he was sitting on a chair, shouting orders.

• Hey, what's going on here anyway?

• Sorry, we've got the wrong door... And now the commander is punishing us.

"Cleaner than mine!" Albert said.