“What? No, Mort, listen, the kid ... no, but ... damn it, Mort, I had to ... yes, well, that’s true, I guess, but still ... fine. FINE. I said it ...as fine. Bye.”He handed the phone back, and just stared at me. “You are an asshole, you know that right?”I just nodded. I had known that for a long time.“Okay, well, sorry for ranting and raving. It is what I do when I get worried. You don’t work for the studio. Mort reminded me that, if anything, you are partnering with us on a movie production and. I tried taking it out one day and putting a shoe on it but I was sent home. That afternoon, ashamed and sick of my preDICKament- I took out my father's hatchet. There I was, standing in the middle of my grandmother's room in front of her giant, ornate mirror, screaming at my reflection. I pulled out my dick and started yelling at it- spittle (little bits of spit) landing on the shaft "do it! you pussy!" i shouted. I raised the hatched and was about to end my problems when suddenly the ghost of. More

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