After the government introduced the new "50/50 Split Divorce" protocol, my husband secretly filled out the application behind my back. "I demand that my wife leave this marriage with absolutely nothing! A housewife's contribution is practically nonexistent. I refuse to let a gold-digger profit from our divorce!" He looked incredibly smug, his eyes shining with calculating greed. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I just sat there quietly, playing my part. However, when the final results of the 50/50 Split were announced... I smiled. And he completely lost his mind. 1 In the seventh year of our marriage, my husband, Liam, asked for a divorce. Holding our daughter's hand, I sat quietly on the sidelines, watching him. The waiting room was packed. Everyone was buzzing with excitement over the newly launched "50/50 Split Divorce" protocol. "Do you think this 50/50 split means we go back to exactly how we were when we started dating, and literally split everything down the middle?" "Who knows? But honestly, this is great. The car and the house were both bought by my family anyway. No matter how they split it, she won't get a dime of it." "Isn't a true 50/50 split the fairest way? You keep exactly what you earned. Nobody takes advantage of anyone." ... Suddenly, the massive screen in the waiting hall lit up. [The 50/50 Split Divorce Protocol Regulations:] [First: Neither spouse has the right to terminate the proceedings once the judgment begins.] [Second: Once the judgment is finalized, the results are irreversible.] [Third: Any party attempting to back out or express regret during the proceedings will face double the penalties.] My six-year-old daughter, huffing and puffing, ran over to the screen, pulled out a tiny notebook, and diligently copied down the rules. After double-checking her notes, she ran back and explained them to me like a little adult: "Mommy, I read all the rules! They're very normal and there are no loopholes." I patted her head gently, then turned to Liam and asked mildly: "Did you get our number? When is it our turn?" "We're number one. We're going in right now." He marched triumphantly toward the intake counter and submitted all our paperwork. [Please state your primary divorce demands.] The automated system prompted. "I demand that my wife leave this marriage with absolutely nothing! A housewife's contribution is practically nonexistent. I refuse to let a gold-digger profit from our divorce!" The moment those words left his mouth, the entire waiting room exploded. Even the live stream broadcasting this inaugural trial paused for three full seconds. [Is this guy even human?] [I think he's right. Why should I break my back working outside while she sits at home enjoying life, only for her to take half my assets when we divorce?] [Exactly. The bride price I paid was literally buying her. Why should I have to pay her even more?] [I am speechless that a guy like this actually managed to get a wife.] [Bro is really putting on a show, I swear.] [Can we please not lower the bar for decent men any further? My wife just kicked me because of this guy. Crying emoji.] [Everyone agreeing with him online is probably some pathetic, single loser. No money, no looks, no house, no car, no personality... literally nothing to offer.] [The comment above is speaking facts. My buddy broke up with his girlfriend over the bride price, and I immediately swooped in and paid double to marry her.] [Hahaha, what an incredible display of brotherhood.] ... I frowned slightly and gently covered my daughter's ears. When I made eye contact with the other mothers in the room, they offered me bitter, empathetic smiles. It seems the role of a housewife truly is an impossible modern dilemma. You can't have your cake and eat it too. Those who delusionally try to exploit both sides will inevitably pay a heavy price. 2 [Demands have been officially registered. Please proceed to the Judgment Hall for the proceedings.] The crowd surged forward. The other mothers and I naturally fell to the back of the pack. "Don't be afraid. If housewives were actually paid a salary for their labor, no one here could afford to hire us." We encouraged and supported each other. In our shining eyes, there was unshakeable courage and resilience. We exhaled softly, held hands, and walked in together. We looked up. The Judgment Hall resembled a massive, theatrical stage. Under the glaring spotlight, Liam had already been waiting for a long time. I carried my daughter up onto the stage. Below us, the whispers and murmurs instantly grew louder: "Wow, this frumpy housewife and her husband really don't match at all." "Look at her hair, she's practically balding! And that spare tire around her waist... disgusting." "They always say men peak at forty while women wilt. This is the perfect example of that gap." "Honestly, none of the women getting divorced today are good-looking. That's probably the real reason." "Women should make an effort to look good for the men who love them. If you can't keep your husband interested, don't blame him for looking elsewhere." "What do they mean 'a mistake every man makes'? It clearly just means the wife at home couldn't keep him satisfied." "My god, is this a live broadcast of a nature documentary?" "Am I the only one who thinks the wife has it really rough?" "She clearly hid her true self too well before marriage. This is just karma finally catching up to her." "Girls, never become a housewife!" "Agreed!" ... I whispered to my daughter, "Baby, do you want Mommy to take you to Aunt Chloe?" The little girl in my arms shook her head and gently patted my stomach. "I'm already a big girl. I can make my own judgments. Don't worry, Mommy." "To me, this isn't just fat. These are the medals you got from bringing me into the world. Aunt Chloe said that without this tummy, I wouldn't be here today." My throat tightened painfully. I hated myself for not being a better mother. For forcing such a young child to endure this massive family upheaval. For forcing her to become so mature and understanding so quickly. I quickly wiped away the tears threatening to fall from the corners of my eyes and smiled down at her. "My little Lily is the absolute best. Mommy is so lucky to have you." Yes. I still have my daughter. And if my best friend was right, today I would take back everything that rightfully belonged to me. I stared at Liam—who had clearly spent significant time and money maintaining his physique and youthful appearance—and offered a strange, chilling smile. "The youth and vitality drained by a partner... it will all be returned." 3 [Final Confirmation: Regardless of the outcome of the judgment, neither party is permitted to back out. Do you accept?] I didn't hesitate for a second. I nodded immediately. Liam scoffed dismissively. "What is there to regret about ditching a worn-out housewife?" [Confirmation complete. Due to the unique mechanics of the 50/50 Split Divorce System, all individuals present must sign a strict non-disclosure agreement.] [Anyone who reveals the specific details of this proceeding to the outside world—both the speaker and the listener—will be fined ten million dollars and sentenced to three years in prison.] [Repeat offenders will have their tongues and hands permanently incapacitated.] [The live broadcast will now be temporarily suspended and will resume only after the judgment is finalized.] At that moment, a digital contract slowly rose from the console in front of us. I grabbed the stylus and signed it without a moment's hesitation. [Anyone harboring doubts or unwilling to comply has three minutes to leave the Judgment Hall.] [After three minutes, remaining in the hall constitutes full legal consent to this agreement.] The automated voice ceased, and the stage lights converged on a massive, glowing countdown clock on the screen. A ripple of unease spread through the audience. Everyone was clearly harboring doubts. But the fact that they were sitting here meant they believed the potential financial benefits far outweighed the risks of this new divorce method. Exactly as I expected, not a single person left. Three minutes later, every door and window in the hall slammed shut and locked automatically. Scores of identical mannequins, each clutching a wooden gavel, slid out from hidden compartments in the walls, completely surrounding the audience. [Time is up. Couple Number One, please step onto the biometric scanners.] Liam looked completely unbothered, using the opportunity to mock me further. "I work out every single day. I'm not like her, bloated and fat like a pig." "You're lying! Mommy is only like this because she had a difficult pregnancy keeping me safe! You're the lazy one! You don't do anything at home, Mommy has to take care of you like a baby!" My daughter aggressively waved her little fists, her fierce, protective instincts fully on display. The audience gasped in shock. "That daughter is completely brainwashed. What an ungrateful little brat." Liam clutched his chest, putting on a spectacular performance of a devastated, heartbroken father. "Lily! I'm your biological father! Did your mother brainwash you to say these things?" My daughter shook her head and yelled clearly and loudly at the audience: "Do the uncles in the audience go home and help their mommies cook and clean? If you don't, then were you all brainwashed too? Are you all just a bunch of ungrateful brats?!" In an instant, the entire hall was plunged into dead silence. [Alright, little one. Honest words are often hard to hear. Please return to your designated VIP seat. The little mannequins will play with you there.] Beside my daughter's seat, an intricately carved, beautifully dressed porcelain doll slowly floated up. "Mommy, you can do this!" She hugged me tightly, her smile as bright as the sun. I hugged her back gently, then placed her securely in her seat. "I know. Trust Mommy." 4 [Biometric reports generated. Upon mutual confirmation, the 50/50 Split Protocol will commence.] A flicker of doubt crossed Liam's face, but he couldn't resist the urge to brag. "Mia, your report is probably a massive list of red flags, isn't it?" "Mine, on the other hand, is a clean bill of health." I simply handed my medical report directly to him. "You're absolutely right. Take a look." He snatched it eagerly, reading it aloud as if he were reading a list of criminal charges: "Weight: 145 lbs. Chronic sleep deprivation, anterior pelvic tilt, chronic neck and shoulder pain, chronic lumbar pain, severe hair loss, chronic rhinitis, urinary incontinence..." "No wonder you always smell so weird. It's because you're constantly leaking urine." Liam recoiled in absolute disgust, his face a mask of revulsion. [Both parties have confirmed the reports. We will now execute a 50/50 split of the aforementioned physical damage and overall physiological states.] Immediately, a warm, gentle white light enveloped me. My heavy, sluggish body suddenly felt incredibly light and energetic. My thinning hair began to rapidly thicken and grow. My oily, dull skin became clear and radiant. The constant fog in my brain vanished, replaced by sharp clarity. Even my cheap, worn-out clothes transformed into high-quality, elegant garments. On the other side of the stage, Liam's agonizing screams echoed through the hall. His perfectly toned physique rapidly bloated and sagged. Half of his thick hair fell out in clumps. His clear skin became greasy and covered in dark spots. When the white light faded, even though it was only a 50/50 split, I felt entirely reborn. I was thrilled by my transformation, completely missing the vicious, homicidal glare Liam was shooting me. But his aggression didn't last long. [System detects the female party experienced a full month of agonizing surgical incision recovery. Would you like to execute a 50/50 split so the male party can personally experience this pain?] Liam hesitated, genuine fear in his eyes. But the audience immediately began egging him on. "What are you afraid of? My mom always said every woman gives birth. If a woman can do it, a man can definitely handle the pain." "Women just love to exaggerate. Men don't put on those kind of pathetic, dramatic acts." "My mom was literally working in the fields while she was pregnant! If she could do it, I could do it too!" I seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. "Yeah, Liam! Doesn't your mother always brag about how she was working the fields right up until she gave birth? Surely such a simple, trivial thing wouldn't be too hard for a big, strong man like you?" "I can submit the request for you to experience it right now, if you want." My daughter perfectly followed my lead. "So Daddy is actually just a coward! He won't even try something Mommy was brave enough to do! I think I should just change my last name to match Mommy's." That struck Liam's most sensitive, fragile nerve. Sporting his new, dark under-eye circles, he glared at me intensely. "Don't worry. Daddy is the bravest man in the world. I will never let you change your last name to an outsider's!" I feigned disappointment. "What a shame. I almost succeeded." Believing he had cleverly caught me in a trap, his steps instantly became lighter. "My daughter will only ever carry my last name!" 5 [The Childbirth Experience Simulation is about to commence. System detects a lack of two critical supporting roles from the postpartum recovery period. Female party, please select proxies.] I dialed my best friend Chloe's number while scanning the audience. "Chloe, you got in, right?" On the other end of the line, the sound of someone cracking sunflower seeds stopped. I continued: "Which role do you want to play? The hyper-critical, toxic mother-in-law, or the useless, mommy's-boy husband?" "The toxic mother-in-law! I want to be your mom!" The sound of sunflower seeds showering the floor echoed as Chloe leaped up from the middle rows and sprinted toward the stage. Her loud, boisterous energy radiated the vibrant youth we had both lost. I muttered under my breath, annoyed but amused, "Taking advantage of the situation to be my mom." [Participant count confirmed. Commencing temporal regression.] When I opened my eyes again, Chloe and I were standing on a narrow dirt path between two massive farm fields. Liam was standing deep in the mud, heavily pregnant, his legs swollen to twice their normal size. He was clumsily swinging a heavy farming tool, looking like he was about to collapse. Looking closer... His face was contorted in agony, his teeth gritted tight. One hand constantly supported his hardened, contracting belly, while the other struggled to plow the unforgiving earth. However, to the audience watching on the screen, this scene was just concrete proof of their preconceived notions. "See? My mom wasn't lying! It's so easy!" "What's so hard about that? My grandmother had seven kids back in the day, and you never heard her complaining about 'childbirth trauma'." "People just had better constitutions back then. Modern women are just delicate and whiny." I pulled Chloe aside and whispered loudly enough for the microphones to catch: "It's easy to talk tough. If they think it's so easy, I challenge every single one of them to come up here and try it themselves." "Exactly. Men are always bragging about how much better they are at physical labor. Well, the labor is right here, but none of them have the guts to actually do it." [System detects a massive surge of brainwaves indicating a strong desire to prove personal capability. An exceptional mass-teleportation will now be initiated.] [To provide empirical evidence regarding the 'My Mom Said' phenomenon, this simulation will be broadcast globally for all households to observe.] Countless pillars of white light struck the edges of the fields, revealing all the male audience members, now dressed exactly like Liam. They enthusiastically shouted at the live broadcast cameras: "Mom! Watch this! Your son is going to do even better than you did!" "Let's see how those whiny 'feminists' argue with this!" "This is a piece of cake. It feels exactly like carrying around my beer belly." But the very first swing of a hoe resulted in a synchronized chorus of agonizing gasps. "Did my mom actually lie to me?!" "Is this really the kind of work a pregnant person was forced to do?!" 6 In front of their eyes, holographic projections of their own mothers began to materialize. "Son! Stop right now! You're going to cause permanent damage to your body!" "Mom shouldn't have lied and said it was easy. But your father demanded I do it, I had no choice! Stop working!" "It's good for you to experience this! It builds character!" "Keep working! Your father always said suffering is a blessing!" "The pain your mother endured isn't something that can be erased with a simple 'Thank you for your hard work'." The mothers' reactions varied wildly—some were thrilled, some were dead silent, and some were heartbroken. But my former mother-in-law was the glaring exception. Her shrill, toxic voice cut through the noise: "What do you mean, 'lied'?! This is exactly what women are supposed to do! Why are all you grown men trying to act like women and work the fields?!" Liam played dumb. "Is that really true?" "Of course it is! Women develop special physical abilities when they get pregnant!" Special abilities? I sneered internally. It was just that pregnant women were infinitely easier to control and exploit. "Wait, is she actually a man in disguise?" "This live stream is truly eye-opening. I'm learning so much today." The mothers connected to the broadcast were stunned into absolute silence. But the chaos on our end wasn't for nothing. [System acknowledges the deeply held convictions of Liam's mother. We will now initiate a 1:1 biological replication.] [The simulation must be experienced in a female biological body to ensure absolute accuracy and fairness.] [However, participants must complete the current phase of the simulation before the conversion can take place.] None of the men objected. In fact, they seemed somewhat amused by the challenge. "Hey, this really isn't that hard." "Yeah, it takes a minute to get used to, but once you find the rhythm, it's totally bearable." "It's just a little manual labor. How exhausting could it possibly be?" "Hahaha, we all worked in the fields when we were kids! It's nowhere near as fatal as they claim!" But their amusement evaporated almost instantly. Liam was the first to complete the phase and be transformed into a female body. He stood at the edge of the field, his expression radiating absolute triumph. "Mia! You have absolutely no excuse to be whiny now!" "My mom was right! Look how incredibly easy this is!" I smiled faintly. "Is that right? Then why aren't you getting back to work?" Less than ten minutes later. Liam was so utterly exhausted he looked like he was going to pass out. His fragile, trembling frame was genuinely pathetic to watch. He was hunched over, his face pale and drained of all strength, yet he still stubbornly insisted: "My mom was right! Female bodies really do have special abilities! I'm not tired at all!" His mother, watching via the live link, guiltily covered her eyes. She tried to justify it: "It's different. Inside, he still has the mind of a man." Hearing that, Chloe and I were completely speechless. We just side-eyed her and violently kicked the weeds at our feet. The other men, however, completely abandoned their tools and quit. "What the hell is this?! This is not work meant for a human being!" "Send us back immediately! This simulation is literal torture!" [If you complete the simulation, all the physical damage your mothers suffered in the past will be entirely healed.] [This is a one-time offer. Would you like to reconsider?] The mothers gasped in shock, their eyes swirling with complex, overwhelming emotions. They didn't speak. They just stared quietly at the sons they had loved and spoiled since childhood. "No way! My mom loves me too much; she'd be heartbroken watching me suffer like this!" "I can't do it either. If I heal her, then what about all the years my dad spent taking care of her? Would that be a 50/50 split too?" "Stop wasting time! Whoever doesn't agree can stay here. Don't delay the rest of us from going back!" [Commencing extraction. Those who wish to leave, please drop your tools.] In that split second, I saw a profound, devastating disappointment etched across the diverse faces of the mothers. While a very small minority of the men did stay and complete the simulation... The mothers whose sons chose to leave were quietly wiping away tears. I couldn't tell if those tears were from envy or pure jealousy. [Liam's simulation phase is complete. Commencing the primary simulation phase.] [—Childbirth.] 7 The scene shifted instantly. Liam was currently being tortured to the brink of death by agonizing contractions. Yet, he still had to endure the deafening screams of the other men in labor sharing the ward. He completely broke down, screaming hysterically: "Mia! I demand to be moved to a private room!" My hand paused halfway to my mouth with a sunflower seed. I looked at Chloe with mock conflict. "Mom, should we upgrade him to a private room?" "The mood of the person in labor can affect the baby, right?" She immediately pulled a sour face and pointed directly at Liam's nose, screeching: "Do you think Mia's money just falls from the sky?! What kind of man doesn't go through childbirth?! Why are you the only one acting so delicate and wasting money?!" "All you do all day is hold your hand out and demand cash! Do you think we're just your personal ATMs?!" I was struggling so hard to hold in my laughter that my stomach actually hurt. Just as I pulled out my phone to play some games and relax... Liam lost his mind, crying and interrogating me: "I am literally at death's door giving birth to your child, and you're sitting there playing video games?! Do you even care about me at all?!" I smiled, my expression dripping with cynical amusement. "I'm not the one giving birth, so why should I exhaust myself sitting around doing nothing? Does that line sound familiar to you?" "Isn't that exactly what you did back then?" "I'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine, and you already can't handle it?" He froze instantly, his defenses completely shattered. "That was years ago! Can you just let it go already?!" "Constantly bringing up the past... aren't you exhausted?!" I didn't care in the slightest. "The way you and your mother treated me before... you're about to experience the exact same karma." Liam fell silent, the corners of his eyes turning a furious, frustrated red. Just as I was about to secure a Pentakill in my game, he suddenly looked at me, his eyes overflowing with guilt, his tone incredibly soft and romantic: "I'm so sorry, Mia. I was wrong." "Oh, playing the 'prodigal husband returns' card now, are we?" I dug my pinky into my ear, physically shaking off the goosebumps, and hit him where it hurt most: "Look at yourself. You're pregnant, your body is completely ruined, and looking at you makes me physically sick." "You're as fat as a breeding pig, and you actually think you deserve a private room? Keep dreaming." "My mom said this baby absolutely must be a girl." "If we don't get a daughter, the glorious Harrison family bloodline can't end with my generation." Liam went pale, glaring at me with dark, venomous resentment. It wasn't until the doctor came in and asked if he wanted an epidural that true panic set in. "Yes! I absolutely need it!" "You know my birth plan says I'm having a C-section!" I pretended to hesitate, stubbornly refusing to sign the consent form. "What epidural?! That's terrible for the baby!" "Besides, babies born naturally are much smarter!" "Daughter, why don't you go home and get some rest? Mom will wait here." I nodded, fighting back a massive grin as I ran out of the room. Chloe's performance as the toxic mother-in-law was flawlessly realistic. Even the other people in the simulation were whispering and pointing at her, cursing her for being an evil monster. [Wait. System detects that during this exact historical period, the male party used 'work trips' as an excuse to travel for leisure, and spent his after-work hours drinking and partying with colleagues. Female party, please execute the simulation according to this historical trajectory.] So, the 'business trips' that kept him away from home when Lily was born were all lies. Although I had my suspicions back then, I actually felt bad for how hard he was working. But now, knowing the absolute truth, I only had one thought in my mind. Karma is a beautiful, beautiful thing. 8 When Liam was discharged from the hospital and came home for his postpartum confinement... Chloe immediately served him instant noodles, plain steamed buns, and cheap pickled vegetables. "You need to learn to be grateful! When I had kids, we didn't have conditions nearly this good!" "My daughter went on a business trip. Don't you dare bother her, do you understand?!" He clutched his stomach, immediately launching into a furious, screaming tirade: "Stop pretending! I know exactly what I did back then!" Chloe simply shrugged. After "taking care" of Liam for exactly three days... She decisively booked a luxury senior citizens' tour group and left. Currently, the incision from Liam's emergency C-section was agonizingly painful, and the baby was screaming bloody murder from hunger. Seeing this exact scene replay before my eyes, the suffocating, phantom pain of that memory still pierced me like needles. No one to help. No one to understand. The mother-in-law despised the baby because it was a girl, and Liam was 'too busy with work'. And me? I had just been promoted to the role of 'Mother,' and was expected to suddenly become an invincible superhero. It was completely, utterly laughable. I wiped away a tear, deciding to luxuriously enjoy my single, post-marriage life. After my 'business trip' ended, Chloe and I arrived home at the exact same time. Liam looked like a resentful, vengeful ghost. He forcefully shoved the screaming baby into my arms. "Mia! She's your child too! She's not just mine!" I enjoyed his hysterical breakdown for a moment, then handed the baby directly to Chloe and threw myself onto the sofa. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for me to be out there busting my ass to provide for this family?!" "Stop throwing a tantrum! You need to show some consideration for my mom! She's getting older, and grandmothers have absolutely no legal obligation to raise your kids!" "I put food on the table and a roof over your head! Why are you so ungrateful?!" Chloe, while rocking the baby, immediately activated her toxic persona again: "Seriously, Liam, you need to show some empathy for Mia! Do you think it's easy for a strong, successful woman to work all day?!" "And you need to hurry up and give us a second child! The Harrison family has had only one heir for three generations. We cannot let the bloodline die with you!" "Sons belong to other families eventually. Daughters are the true roots of a family!" Liam completely broke down, locking himself in his room and crying every single night. I got annoyed by the noise and moved into the guest bedroom. The simulation rules were absolute. He couldn't break the script. He had to endure my exact historical trajectory, day by agonizing day. Endure it until his mind snapped and he suffered a total psychological breakdown. Endure it until the permanent physical and mental damage of raising a child entirely alone became his permanent reality. And me? I, the 'perfect partner,' naturally remained completely invisible and absent. 9 On the 25th day of his postpartum confinement, I sent Chloe back to her own home. At this moment, the toxic mother-in-law logged off. It was time for me, the 'perfect spouse,' to finally do my part. "Liam! What the hell do you do at home all day?!" "I work incredibly hard, and I can't even get a hot breakfast in the morning?!" He clutched his stomach, his voice weak and trembling: "My incision hasn't healed yet. I can't touch cold water." I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my own brain. "It was just a C-section! Everyone's husband gives birth! I've never seen anyone act as pathetic and dramatic as you!" Liam started crying. "I went through this surgery to give you a child! Do you think I actually wanted to be sliced open?!" I felt a microscopic, fleeting second of pity, but logic instantly took over. "Stop acting like a martyr! Isn't she your child too?!" "Stop constantly claiming you 'gave birth for a woman'! Don't you need a child?! Doesn't she call you Daddy?!" He was rendered completely speechless, and I felt nothing but a profound sense of tragic irony. Over the next few days, I continued to do exactly whatever I wanted. After work, I was either out drinking with friends or finding excuses to work late. When I was home, I was incredibly lazy and demanded to be waited on. No matter how much Liam screamed or cried, I just used "work" as my ultimate, unassailable excuse. Acting like this felt incredibly satisfying. But for some strange reason, I wasn't actually happy. [Simulation complete. Commencing extraction.] When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Judgment Hall. Liam looked incredibly emaciated and sickly, completely stripped of the arrogant, triumphant energy he had when he first walked in. [Excellent. The previous 50/50 split is now concluded.] [We will now execute a 50/50 split of the parties' professional careers. The female party will receive 50% of the male party's career achievements and assets. The male party will receive 3.5 years of experience as a stay-at-home husband.] The moment the announcement ended, the audience erupted in absolute outrage. "That is completely unfair! Why does a housewife who sits at home enjoying life get half the assets?!" "Giving her two thousand dollars a month is proof enough! I didn't get her labor for free! I completely reject a professional 50/50 split!" Liam finally snapped back to reality. With a cold, malicious sneer, he projected his "evidence" onto the massive screens. "These are all concrete proof that a housewife's contribution is practically nonexistent!" "Mountains of online shopping deliveries, sleeping in until noon, demanding more money before the month is even over, a completely messy, filthy house..." "Mia not only provided absolutely zero help to my career, but she was also incredibly lazy and gluttonous at home." "If we split this 50/50, I am obviously the one being robbed!" Chloe had a famously explosive temper. I almost couldn't hold her back. "Even the most ruthless sweatshop owner doesn't have a heart as black as yours, Liam! If you love 50/50 splits so much, why didn't you split the rent with your parents when you lived with them?!" "Did your clothes wash themselves?! Did your meals magically appear fully cooked?! Did the house clean itself?!" "Without Mia, do you honestly think you would have lived such a comfortable, luxurious life all these years?!" Liam scoffed, crossing his arms and sneering defensively: "She volunteered to sacrifice herself for the family! This isn't just my house; it's hers and Lily's too!" I couldn't take it anymore. I walked right up and slapped him hard across the face. "Volunteered?! If you volunteered to go to work, why the hell did you demand a salary?!" [Physical violence is strictly prohibited within the Judgment Hall. Female party, please return to your original position.] Liam reluctantly lowered his raised hand, glaring at me with pure venom. "You really are a psycho bitch. An old, used-up gold-digger who can't even extort money properly." [Due to the male party's complete refusal to acknowledge the value of a homemaker's labor, and to empirically prove the female party's value over the past seven years, we invite any willing participants to join the next simulation.] For the first time ever, the audience was completely, terrifyingly silent. They knew perfectly well that their arguments were logically and morally bankrupt. Yet they still clung to the delusional hope that this groundbreaking case would set a legal precedent they could use to exploit their own wives in the future.
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