“Are you going to have a male stripper deliver a pizza to us?” Karen joked of the often-used entertainment.“Are you kidding? The twelve of us wo...ld sexually kill a teenaged pizza boy,” Vicky laughed.Wendy, Diane, and Abby baked cute bite-sized snacks with cookies in the shape of cocks and pussies. The women made jokes about their size, comparing them to their husband or boyfriend’s cock. It didn’t take much time for the conversations to turn more sexual in nature. Vicky had put together a slide. Wished he could rid himself of his impurity.He caught his reflection in the mirror--his eyes bloodshot, his face bone pale. As if he’d seen a ghost.He closed his eyes and willed himself to look at his phone. To investigate this further. He had to know the truth.He looked down and scrolled through the images, praying for an inconsistency. But the photos were all there, years and years of evidence. The proof was undeniable.Mr. Armisen was his ex’s father.He heard a knock on the door.“Carson? Are. More

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