“So I’m some sort of mystical savior meant to prevent the world from certain doom.”

“Yes.”

“And I can’t tell my husband.”

“Right.”

“Because you’ll have to kill him.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you think I won’t stop you.”

“Well no, I think you’ll try–”

“Right.”

“–I just don’t think you’ll succeed. After all, there are hundreds of us and one of you.”

“I’ll kill all of you if you touch him–”

“But you’ll still save the world.”

“What?”

“Even if you kill all of us, because we’ve killed him, when the time comes you’ll still save the world.”

“No I won’t.”

“Really? You’d kill billions of innocent people because we did something we told you we would do?”

“You can’t kill my husband!”

“I’m hoping we don’t have to.”

“Well what if I tell everyone? You can’t kill everyone.”

“What?”

“If I go on TV, on the news and I tell everyone about this whole dammed mess–”

“Then saving the world stops being an option.”

“Why?”

“Look, let’s start with this. You agree not to tell anyone anything until we have a chance to explain it to you first. This is not a simple five minute explanation; we’re talking twenty hours of lectures, five hours of labs–”

“Labs?”

“Well I don’t expect you to believe it without proof.”

“Good point.”

“So do we have a deal?”

“Considering my apparent options are death, more death, or the end of the world: Yes.”