How can I get rid of my devil baby?

Dear Diet Coke Talk:

One week ago, my wife Ionna called to tell me that she was pregnant; However, we haven't seen each other in over a year, as I have been doing overseas work in Finland (I work in the commodities market, primarily fish). This fact, plus the letters she has sent me describing her friendship with the new Pastor at our church (whom she describes as "kind" and "handsome"), and the strange calls I have received from my church friends regarding my wife "sneaking out" with the Pastor after service has led me to believe that she has been involved with some sort of satanic ritual cult; and that her pregnancy is an immaculate conception via the Devil Himself!

I fear for the safety of both my wife and her Pastor friend, but I don't know how to approach the subject of an abortion tactfully. Subtlety is not my strong point. Please tell me what to do.

Sincerely,
Frank Putz

Bethany: Wow. Frank, honey, you know we are not here to judge, but we are going to have to just come right out and be straight with you.

Darlene: It's like a Biore nose strip, the best way is to just pull the whole thing off at once.



Bethany: Oh, Lord no, I couldn't do that. It hurts like the dickens. I just peel.

Darlene: No, honey, you just got to yank it. Trust me.

Bethany: Well, you do what you have to, dear, but we're talking to Frank here. Frank, you can't treat this situation the way I treat a Biore nose strip. You can't just peel and wince.

Darlene: No, we're going to cut to the chase right now.

Bethany: I am sorry to have to say this but your story would not fool a child.

Darlene: Not even Beth Miller's poor Timmy.

Bethany: That's right, not even a child who can't tell a Jolly Rancher from a firecracker.

Darlene: His poor mother.

Bethany: It's plain to anyone with eyes to see that the real problem is with you. This is what we call a deflection, honey. Let me tell you how it is, Frank. You've been in Finland for over a year and you're getting lonely. You find yourself looking at fine Finnish ladies...

Darlene: Or reindeer.

Bethany: Or reindeer. We're not judging.

Darlene: Judge not lest ye be judged.

Bethany: That's right. That is rule number one at Diet Coke Talk. So your mind is filled with thoughts of lovely Finnish girls or disgusting bestiality, not that we're judging, and you can't bear the guilt. So you invent this ridiculous little story about your wife.

Darlene: And then you come to us! You want our stamp of approval to cheat on your wife.

Bethany: I am sorry, Frank, but it is clear as day. Your story is filled with the most unbelievable kinds of fairy tale notions and things that don't exist.

Darlene: Like pastors.

Bethany: Honestly. Who believes in pastors after you're five years-old? Some mythological boogeyman that will preach sermons at you in church and bore you to sleep if you're wicked? Please.

Darlene: And fish! It's just a hoot that you would come to two middle-aged ladies that know a thing or two about the world and expect us to believe in some fairy tale animal that could breathe water!

Bethany: Really, dear, it's about time to just man up and face your adulterous impulses. Darlene and I are certainly not going to condone your cheating ways based on some clumsy tale you've made up about your poor wife.

Darlene: Of all the nerve.

Bethany: You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to put one over on a cagey grown lady, a lady, might I say, with the alertness that comes from five caffeinated beverages a day. (sluuuuuuuuurp)

Darlene: Six here. (sluuuuuuuuuurp)