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Lake

They don’t even bother hitting the light switch, which is cool, Lake decides; he can be into that. This is how he finds himself getting a clear, full-color glimpse of her tattoo.

“Whoa!” he says.

“Oh,” she laughs, up on her elbows in her underwear, “you noticed it.”

He smiles understandingly. “Woke up with that after a wild night?”

“No.”

His smile shrinks. “Lost a bet.”

She’s not smiling at all. “Chevy makes really bad cars. The kid peeing on their logo symbolizes–hey, what happened?” she asks, glancing down at his detumescing penis.

“You transmogrified it,” he sighs.

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