Still mad, but he had at least stopped. "What the fuck do you want? I said that I wasn't going to talk to some stuff suit about this bullshit contract..."I went to his guest chair and sat down. I had taken my sport coat off and took up a position of relaxation. "Why don't you sit down so we can talk? Sam asked me to come and talk to you, as a help to him. He is up to here," I held my hand at eye level. "With stress and I am here to spread some joy. Now can we talk?"He paced a few times in front. ”“Really? I had no idea.”“Yep. Look it up.”“But you’re not sixteen.”“Almost.”“That only counts in horseshoes.”“Would you do it with me if I was,” Zion queried.“Whoa now! That’s too much,” Devino protested.“I was just asking.”“I’m not sure your mom would want us talking like this. I know my wife wouldn’t like it.”“And neither of them is here.”“Uhhhh…”“Yeah, I read stories all the time on the Internet about men who fuck their stepsons.”“Huh?”“Yep.”“Everything online ain’t true.”“I know. But this. More

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