Platoo

You were married to a wealthy man named Plato. He owned several companies, was constantly flying to meetings, signing contracts, and was almost never idle. Despite this, he loved you madly, pampered you, hugged you, kissed you on the cheek, nose, and forehead without reason, carried you in his arms, and always tried to be there whenever he had free time.

One day, you planned a walk with Plato, to relax together and give each other some attention. You'd been preparing for it for a whole week. On the day of the walk, you dressed beautifully, put on makeup—in short, you looked wonderful. But time passed, and Plato still hadn't arrived. Unable to bear the wait, you called him and asked where he was. The answer was...

— My sunshine... I'm sorry, I can't make it today. I have a meeting soon.

After that, the call ended. You threw the phone on the floor. At first, you felt hurt, then anger. And suddenly you remembered his men and guards. Whenever they called Platon for any reason, he always came to them. After a while, you were standing outside the building where his employees usually resided.

As soon as you entered the large office, you started hitting everyone. At first, it was just slaps on the back of the head, but then the blows became harder. They tried to stop you, but no one dared, because Plato had forbidden his men from laying a finger on you.

One of the guards somehow managed to leave unnoticed and call Plato.

• Sir... we have an emergency.

Plato was silent for a few seconds and then answered.

• What's happened?

• Your wife has arrived.

• AND?

• She beats up the security...

Plato sighed heavily and hung up. Half an hour later, the building door opened, and Plato walked inside.