Think I Love Lucy.
Some Splainin' To Do
Lucy eyed up her husband Ricky as soon as he came in the door. She stood staring for long minutes.
“You owe me an explanation,” she finally said.
“For what, honey?” he asked.
“The way you look,” Lucy said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Take a look in the hall mirror,” his wife suggested.
With a brief laugh, Ricky did so. What he saw made him cringe. His hair was mussed and his face was covered with lipstick. Not only that, his clothes were rumpled and even ripped.
“Yes, that! Well, I’m waiting!”
Ricky hemmed and hawed without being able to come up with an answer.
“So that’s how you want to do it, is it?” Lucy said coldly.
“But honey…” he started.
“Don’t honey me, you…you… gigolo!” Lucy sobbed. Ricky watched helplessly as she turned and ran up to the bedroom where she slammed and locked the door.
Ricky ran his hands through his hair. A knock came on the door. Ricky opened it to reveal his neighbor Fred Mertz.
“Did you tell her? How did she take it?” he asked.
“I didn’t get a chance. She thought the worst and ran off crying.”
“What could be worse than being mobbed by a bunch of old ladies as you came out of the club?”
“Being mobbed by a bunch of gorgeous women.”
“They were old ladies?” said a voice. Ricky turned to see a red eyed Lucy standing behind him.
“They could have been my grandmother! Honest honey!”
“Next time, go out the back entrance and avoid the any female fans, if you know what’s good for you!” Lucy warned him.
“Anything you say, honey!” Ricky said as he gathered her into his arms. Fred quietly let himself out.