Cash In Day!

"Fuck my artistic integrity," you'll tell your wife. "I'm gonna make me some dollars."

She won't say it out loud, but she'll regret having married you.

"What?" you'll say. "Why should everyone else get rich while I starve on the ground floor trying to wrest my vision from the recesses of my soul?"

She'll shrug. She'll go about cutting coupons.

"You telling me you like this life?"

Take her scissors away from her.

"I'm doing it so I can provide for you baby," you'll say.

"I never wanted my husband to be my provider," she'll say. "I want him to be my hero."

She'll go about cutting coupons, and you'll go back to your workshop (you carve vaginas out of soap. It's your "statement").

Happy Cash In Day!