Dear Ms. O’Brien, we regret to inform you that:
Your husband has released a virus from a food replicator and now has aphasia.
Your husband has violated the prime directive after befriending an alien specifically bred to be quarry.
Your husband is bad at telling inspirational stories meant to fend of the Dal’Rok.
Your husband has inadvertently summoned Rumpelstiltskin.
Your husband has accidentally adopted an alien probe.
Your husband has sworn loyalty unto death to a man building a weird clock.
Your husband isn’t as good at racquetball as he thinks he is.
Your husband has been vaporized.
Just kidding, your husband has not been vaporized. But he does drink coffee in the afternoon.
Your husband has been replaced by a clone. Please act natural.
Your husband has been kidnapped by a cult of luddites.
Your husband has the nickname ‘Smiley’ in an alternative universe. Our condolences.
Your husband has been preemptively found guilty of war crimes against the Cardassian empire. The sentence is death.
Your husband was in a bar fight with a member of the Jem’Hadar. But it was only a simulation. But he was taken prisoner. You know what? It’s complicated.
Your husband has tripped an out-of-date security program. The DS9 will self-destruct in two hours.
Your husband has accidentally seduced a Cardassian scientist.
Your husband has become unstuck in time.
Your alternate reality husband has kidnapped Commander Sisko. Yes, people still call him ‘Smiley.’
Your husband is a terrible meal-time conversationalist. You probably already know this.
Your husband has dislocated his shoulder while reaching for a beverage. He is no longer ‘in the zone.’
Your husband has been captured by the Jem’Hadar. Again. He also wishes that you could be more like a man.
Your husband has been vaporized. Again. Don’t worry, though. We’ve got him backed up as an eyepatch wearing 1960’s assassin.
Your husband has been dragged away from his important duties during the Battle of Britain by his inconveniently pregnant wife. Oh wait.
Your husband has served 20 years in a brutal prison, during which he killed his only friend.
Just kidding. The prison was just a simulation. But his PTSD is not.
Your husband’s is having your child with his superior officer.
No, your husband does not want to be in a throuple. Nice try.
Your husband is being blackmailed into committing genocide by a Pah-wraith inhabiting your body. He also killed all of your plants.
Your baby won’t stop crying. It’s affecting your husband’s dart game.
Your husband has become unstuck in time. Again. You also might want to keep an eye on Rita Tannenbaum.
Your husband has been drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse with the man who hems his pants.
Your husband has torn his pants, and the only man who can fix them has been taken hostage.
Your husband was on a little ship. Your husband took a little trip.
Your husband has adopted a cat. A gangster cat.
Your daughter has become unstuck in time. Sigh. Look, we don’t mean to tell you how to live your life, but you might consider keeping your son well away from any potential tears in the space time continuum.
Your husband has invented scotch flavored gum. He is still seeing his counselor regarding his PTSD, right? Right?
Your husband may attempt to pass another man’s romantic gifts off as his own.
Your husband is playing with toys again. Oh, sorry, we mean models.
Have you ever seen Inception?
Your husband’s golden shoulder has been injured in a climactic battle.
Your husband has misplaced one of his toys. We mean models. Oh, never mind, he found it.
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