I thought it was a little odd that they'd been so stubborn they wouldn't even move it out of my range, but what the hell, it was their flying shitter....arl, Scotty, and I went over to visit with our guest since there didn't seem to be any more communication coming right now. It was in worse shape than I thought at first. There were loads of puncture wounds all over him and a large part of them were on the ass. I guess that was understandable.I wanted to find out his name at least, so I'd have. “Chuck? Are you here?” Standing, paralyzed in my room with the dish rag still in my hand, I answered with a shaky voice, “Yea Mom. I’m in my room.” Her footsteps approached my door. “Can you come out here? I want to talk to you.” I stuffed the dish rag under my pillow and nervously opened my door. “Yea Mom?” Her blank, uncomfortable stare forced a look of guilt onto my face. “Were you just in the kitchen?” My jaw dropped. “Uh..N..No, I mean..I…ju...just got home.” She suddenly got that familiar. More

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