Can You Predict What Happens Next in These Bonkers Letters to Dear Prudence?

This column is part of Advice Week, Slate’s celebration of all things advice. Sometimes, people write in with letters, questions, and wide-reaching tales that seem too

good (and too chock-full of Lifetime movie dramatics) to be true. The twists and turns often lead to a much too-perfect reveal. We’re left wondering, that couldn’t have possibly

happened… could it? So, we decided to put these letters and our staffers to the test. We collected a few of our most out-there Prudie submissions, cut them off at a

particularly interesting turn, and had some of our staff guess where our letter writer would take us. Do you know what comes next? Dear Prudence,  When my grandfather

passed away a year and a half ago, he left us his home and small barn in the rural Pacific Northwest. My husband and I work remotely and were itching to get out of our tiny

apartment in an extremely expensive city, so we jumped at the chance to move. We’ve been fully moved in for a year and a half, and a year ago, we decided to use the barn. So we

bought some ducks and chickens as well as a couple of small goats. I spent my summers taking care of animals on this farm, and I like caring for them, plus we’ve earned some extra

money as our neighbors offered to sell the excess eggs and homemade cheese at their farmers market stall. But my husband, in particular, has fallen in love with poultry raising

and spent a lot of time building safe facilities for them. Even just writing this sounds ridiculous: My husband, a man with two master’s degrees, who works for a large software

engineering firm is…