Sharing Animal Crossing with my Wife: She continues to balk at the concept of rules and laws. Her HHA charade continues. What fresh insult awaits.

Ah. She wishes to expand her squalor to my own home! I’ll be damned if I let her take my last piece of paradise.

Sharing Animal Crossing with my Wife: I left my house today to find a pile of refuse littering my front lawn. What appears at first to be a collection of noteworthy items no doubt belies a sinister intent. Let’s check the mail...

Ah. I see. Whatever goodwill she’d garnered from the “gifts” are immediately undermined. I can only imagine what she’s included.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Surely she wouldn’t sink so low.

A joke about the current pandemic. Not only has she ripped unsunder my island paradise, now she’s destroyed the entire concept of escapism by bringing in the very elements of the outside world I sought to escape.

Day 3 of sharing my Animal Crossing island with my wife. I exit my residence to find my village in ruin. It seems she took offense at our measured warning.

The other residents have suffered the same fate and for what crime? A desire to live in a picturesque island paradise?

As if deatroying their homes weren’t enough now she aims to destroy their minds with her perverse speach!

Oooooh how she lies! How she attempts to turn us upon one another with her baseless accusations and empty denials!

We must put a stop to this. We must stop this plague before it overruns our entire island.

Day 2 of sharing my Animal Crossing village with my wife. It seems I’m not the only one who’s encountered the eight-legged scourge.

At the same time, a new sourge arises. A bipedal beast with phalic origins no doubt. His innocent eyes and disarming greeting hiding a villainous intent.

My new neighbor has destroyed the once pristine beauty of the untouched beaches.

Day 1 of sharing my Animal Crossing town with my wife. I awake to an illustration of lactating teets that reads “Milk Suk.” All of houses have a hermit crab outside their front door, no doubt illustrating that we’ve all been “given crabs.”

A letter in my mailbox berates me for my cleanup efforts because someone managed to anger a hive of wasps.

And the final piece: this cryptic drawing left on the bulletin board. I have no idea what the future holds but it will no most assuredly escalate from here.