THOUGH both in their thirties, Dale and Shannon wore matching pyjamas, held hands constantly, rode a tandem bike, and called each other ‘Hunnybunny’ and ‘Schnookywooky’. Their coupled-up friends mocked them for it—gently if they were there, with more sting when they weren’t: ‘It’s just so infantile, right? So evasive of reality!’ Dale and Shannon interpreted the jibes as jealousy, an impression given weight when, over time, these couples bickered, separated and, with sizzling rancour, dragged each other through court. ‘Poor things,’ they agreed one evening while flossing each other’s teeth, ‘they don’t know how lucky we are.’