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As husbands and wives will, from time to time, my wife and I were having the discussion about what would happen in the eventuality that one of us would predecease the other like...tomorrow night. The usual "would you remarry?" questions were asked and answered.

I asked my wife, "If there was a nuclear war tomorrow, and you were the last woman alive on the face of the Earth, would you help procreate the species? Assume there were 10 men that were a mixture of reasonably attractive, and totally repugnant."

My wife asked, "Are you alive or dead?"

"Where I was standing at the moment the war broke out is now a smoking hole," I informed her.

A few moments of consideration. "Yes, reluctantly, if I were the last woman on the face of the Earth, and the survival of the species depended on it, I'd have to do what was necessary."

I was wandering into the kitchen to refill my drink when I heard this, muttered under her breath:

"...bet your ass, I'd set myself up as Queen, though."

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