Nuclear Debate

"Honey, I swear to you, I am this close to having everyone just die right now!"

Sandy's phone nearly trembled with the force of her husband's voice coming through the line. She had married him to be his lover and his friend, but being his counselor was too much sometimes. Especially now, she thought as she fingered the envelope marked "TEST RESULTS" nervously with one hand and rubbed her swollen belly with the other.

"That's... that's nice, honey. What did they do to you?"

She heard a loud sigh from the other end. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing that we've asked them to, and we don't ask much. Just that the world's countries disarm themselves, but they get off on pointing guns at each other. Do you know how much that irritates us?"

Sandy was not many things, least of all a diplomat. "No, not really. But I got something in the mail today."

"Really? Is it my bonus for saving the world's ass once again?" His job as the head of the World Nuclear Council brought with it immense responsibility, pressure from all sides, and a massive chronic migraine. She could tell one was coming on right now.

"It's about the baby. You might want to sit down."

"How can I sit down? The world's about to destroy itself and I'm its only hope, again. What is it?"

Sandy took a deep breath. "Remember that Mexican weightlifter on the cruise?"

She heard nothing, then a gulp. "I can't take this." Then the loud klaxon of a big red button being pushed and a dial tone. She looked at the receiver, hung it on its hook slowly, gasped in realization, and collapsed against the wall crying, waiting for the sky, the same sky she made love under, to burn with fury.