I looked at her face, which was caked in foundation, and smiled slightly. “Michelle, don’t you feel like something is a bit off... here?”

I pointed to her head.

Michelle froze. “What do you mean? Are you calling me crazy?”

“No, no, no,” I said, wagging my finger. “I’m saying… Do you feel like you’re regressing?”

Michelle’s expression shifted. “Stop trying to play mind games with me! I’m telling you, Charles and I grew up together. An outsider like you can forget about driving a wedge between us!”

Just then, Charles returned with a tray. On it was a plate piled high with spaghetti and a bowl of soup.

“Michelle, you must be starving. Eat up.” Charles handed a fork to Michelle. His eyes were full of tenderness

Michelle gave me a smug look and reached for the fork.

[Third stage of punishment initiated: Forget table manners.]

The moment Michelle’s hand touched the fork, she recoiled as if she had been electrocuted.

She stared at the fork with a look of utter confusion. “How do you use this?”

“Stop playing around and eat.” Charles thought she was just acting cute. He shoved the fork into her hand.

Michelle held it, but she had no idea how to use it. She tried to pick up some spaghetti from her plate, but the spaghetti slid away.

Hunger surged within her like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, Michelle threw the fork aside. She reached out with the same hand that had just gripped the car door and touched the soles of her shoes, and grabbed a handful of spaghetti directly from the plate.

“Michelle!” Charles cried out.

Michelle did not hear him. She grabbed a handful of pasta and stuffed it into her mouth.

She ate voraciously while making loud and wet smacking noises that echoed through the hall.

“Good! So good!” she mumbled as she stuffed more food in.

Her hands worked like frantic pistons; after grabbing the spaghetti, she went for the meatballs, coating her face in oil and sauce.

The surrounding diners were stunned. Many pulled out their phones to take photos and videos.

“Oh my god! Is that woman an animal from the zoo?”

“That’s disgusting. Is she really eating with her hands in public?”

Charles was humiliated beyond belief. He rushed forward to grab her hands. “Michelle, what are you doing? It’s filthy!”

Michelle was enraged to be interrupted.

She whipped her head around and bared her teeth at Charles.

Then, she snatched a saucy meatball and hurled it at Charles’ newly purchased Armani jacket.

“Get lost! Don’t steal my meat!”

Charles was stunned.

I sat nearby and took a sip of my water.

“Charles, is this what you meant by ‘casual’? She certainly is being casual, just like a caveman.”

“Yvonne!” Charles roared. He seemed to be having a total breakdown. “Why are you still laughing? Do something! Has she lost her mind?”

“How would I know?” I shrugged.

“Maybe she thinks using a fork is too hypocritical, and eating with her hands fits her ‘casual’ personality better?”

…

By the time he managed to stuff Michelle back into the car, Charles was completely drained.

Stuffed with food and drink, Michelle leaned back in the passenger seat and let out a series of loud and vulgar burps. She wiped her greasy hands all over the leather car interior that Charles treated with utmost care.

Charles’ heart bled for his car, but he did not dare to get angry at her. He could only use wet wipes to clean the mess bit by bit.

“Charles, I want more water,” Michelle said as she held out her hand like a spoiled brat.

Charles suppressed his disgust while he unscrewed the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

Michelle took it and tilted her head back to gulp it down. Water spilled all over her neck, but she did not care. She even let out a satisfied sigh.

“Ah!”

We continued on our way.

Perhaps because she was sleepy after the meal, Michelle finally quieted down for a while.

The system was not about to let her rest. The notification chimed once more.

[Fourth stage preparation: Forget sense of shame and the concept of clothing coverage.]

At dusk, we finally arrived at Charles’ hometown.

Charles’ parents, along with his aunts and uncles, had long been waiting at the entrance.

Charles was the pride of his family, and bringing his wife back for Christmas naturally made him the center of everyone’s attention.

“Oh, Charles is back!” My mother-in-law, Daisy Carter, beamed. Her face split into a wide smile as she hurried forward.

Charles parked the car and looked back at Michelle with an awkward expression.

Michelle was currently sprawled across the passenger seat. Her skirt was hiked up to the top of her thighs, completely devoid of any decorum.

“Michelle, we’re here. Get out of the car,” Charles whispered to her.

Michelle opened her eyes in a daze and stretched. “We’re here? That nap was exhausting.”

She pushed the car door open. This time, she did not crawl. Instead, she stood up unsteadily.

However, her posture remained bizarre. Her legs were bowed, and her arms hung limp at her sides.

“This must be Michelle, right? She’s so pretty,” Daisy praised warmly, though she clearly found Michelle’s stance peculiar.

Michelle glanced at Daisy and suddenly bared her teeth in a grin.

“Old hag, who are you? You’re blocking my way!”

Daisy froze. “H-how can she speak to me like that?”

Charles turned pale with fright and quickly covered Michelle’s mouth.

“Mom, she is just lightheaded from motion sickness. Michelle, say hello to my mom!”

Michelle shoved Charles’ hand away and wiped her mouth in disgust. “Why should I say hello to her? This is so annoying! I need to pee!”

Before the eyes of the entire family, she actually squatted right there and reached down to lift her skirt.

“Ah!”

A chorus of gasps erupted from the gathered relatives. The women covered their eyes while the men stared with their eyes wide open.

Charles went ballistic.

He lunged forward, wrapping his jacket around Michelle to cover her, and desperately pinned her hands down. “Michelle! Have you lost your mind? We’re at the front gate!”

“Let me go! Don’t you understand? I’m just being myself! Holding it in hurts!”

Michelle struggled violently in his arms.

“Mom, I think Michelle is quite ill. Perhaps we should cancel the party tonight?” I suggested with feigned kindness.

“No!” Charles roared as sweat poured down his face. “The relatives are already here. How can we cancel? Michelle just had too much to drink. She’ll be fine after a nap!”

He was still defending her even though she had thoroughly humiliated him.

Fine.

‘Charles, I will make sure your night is memorable,’ I thought.

The party was held in the Carter family’s large courtyard, with about 50 guests attending.

Charles had locked Michelle in a room to “sober up” while he stepped out to socialize.

After a few rounds of drinks, everyone was feeling a bit tipsy.

Suddenly, a window on the second floor burst open with a loud bang.

Everyone looked up.

Michelle was standing on the windowsill.

She was wearing nothing but a tight-fitting nightgown.

In the night breeze, she spread her arms wide and bellowed at the dozens of relatives below.

“I am burning up! These rags are suffocating me! I’ll take it all off! Return to nature! Release your true instincts!”

With that, her hand reached for the clasps on her back.

Snap.

Under Charles’ despairing gaze and the horrified stares of the family, Michelle ripped off her nightgown and hurled it into the crowd.

The black lace garment traced an arc through the air before landing precisely on Charles’ eldest uncle’s bald head.