Page 86 of Talk Nerdy To Me
Metaphorically, of course. Yet another saying I finally understand since meeting him.
“Prepare yourselves,” Randy announces, before he…drops his pants.
Krysta shrieks and looks away, and I tilt my head, wondering why he’s putting his penis on display. What am I missing?
“For fuck’s sake, dude, you forgot boxers again,” Taylor groans, causing Base’s head to snap away from my throat as he glares at Randy’s flaccid penis.
“Shit,” Randy says, covering his penis as he shuffles his feet and turns his bare ass on us instead.
I’ve learned ass is widely more preferred over buttocks.
“Are you cold?” I ask Randy, given how very small his penis seemed, causing Base to make a strangled sound as a bit of laughter slips out.
Taylor and Sticks both double over, heaving out laughter. When I deliberately attempt to make jokes, no one ever laughs. Mostly they get constipated. Or confused.
One day I’ll master that.
“You are so giving me a complex, Red,” Randy shouts, shaking his head as he waddles around with his pants at his ankles and starts lowering himself to the ground. “I’m a grower, not a shower.”
“Don’t ask,” Krysta says when I open my mouth to do just that.
As he gets situated on the ground, pants still trapping his ankles together, he hoots into the air like someone who is very excited. Though…I’m still trying to understand what’s going on.
“Please don’t tell me he’s about to do what I think he is,” Krysta says.
“What’s he about to do?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“He’s definitely going to,” Base tells her, drawing me even closer.
“Load me up and let’s do it!” Randy shouts from the ground.
“Do what exactly?” I ask louder, wondering if my volume is the reason I continue to go unanswered.
“Paper, rock, scissors,” Sticks says to Base, which makes zero sense. “Get up here.”
“My hands are touching Britt, and I’m not going to go the rest of the night without touching her. So I’m out this time. I call hall pass,” Base answers dismissively.
“This is utterly confusing. I’m not constipated,” I point out to them, wondering if maybe they’re not reading my expression right for a change.
Groaning—at Base—Sticks turns to Taylor, and the two of them, in synchronized unison, shake their fists twice. On the third shake, Taylor’s hand flattens and Sticks puts out two fingers.
I’ve seen this before…
I’ve never understood why it played a part in decision making.
I also don’t understand what decision they’re currently making.
“Snip, snip, motherfucker,” Sticks says with a broad smile as Taylor curses and stares at Randy’s ass like it might bite.
“Are they going to have sex in front of us?” I finally ask. “Because I feel like this is something I should video for the girls if they’re okay with public exhibition.”
Base laughs. Hard. And Sticks does as well.
Krysta snickers. Taylor gives me a dry look before he rolls his eyes and catches a Roman Candle that Sticks tosses him.
My eyes dart between the Roman Candle and Randy’s ass, but the math just doesn’t add up. Surely they’re not going to—
“I really fucking hate your traditions,” Taylor says to Randy as he kneels and spreads Randy’s ass cheeks with a grimace on his face.
