Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 2 -- Things Get Complicated
Part: 19 of 47
Universe: The Pact
Summary: Complications set in for the secretive little group created by the
Pact.  The boys stumble into a potential goldmine -- but are they biting off
more than they can chew?
Content: exhib blackmail

The Pact:  Episode 2 -- Things Get Complicated

Chapter 19

        By the time Louise had dropped the Hayes children off after five,
Adele had had all day to come up with questions and wanted answers.  "Get in
here, you three!"

        "Uh oh..." Randy muttered.

        "Uh oh is right, Young Man!" Adele roared.  "We'll start with you, I
guess!  How long have YOU been in this club?"

        Randy shrugged.  "A week?"

        "And how many women have you..."

        "Two."

        "Where did they get what they got?"

        "Huh?"

        "This!"  Adele waved the disk.

        "Oh."  Randy looked exceedingly guilty.  "I don't know all about how
it was done -- but I DO know that the equipment is all gone.  They were
after Sissy, and Brie and I agreed that it was a good idea -- but I didn't
think they'd get you..."

        "You and Brie though it was a good idea to entrap your sister?"
Adele rasped.

        "Considering what she was doing?" Randy replied.  "Yes."

        "She needed to meet boys, Mama," Brie backed up her big brother.
"That other stuff..."  She made a face and stuck out her tongue.

        "I need to know what led to this," Adele sighed.

        "It was Dirk," Randy supplied.  "When he stayed with those people,
he was too aggressive with all the women.  Somebody figured out that he was
having sex with..."

        "WHAT!" Brie screeched, "OMIGAWD!"

        "Oops..." Randy hung his head.  "Sorry, Mama; we'd been able to keep
Brie from knowing that...  She was hung up enough about pussy-licking..."

        "YOU had SEX with a DOG?" Brie turned on her sister.

        "So did Mama!" Alyssa flared back.

        Brie looked stricken.  "NO!"  She turned a gaze of total
disappointment on her mother.  "S-say..."

        Adele hung her head.  It was going to be seriously tough to maintain
the upper hand in THIS conversation, parent or not!  "Baby..."

        "I don't want to hear this!" Brie ranted.  "This is AWFUL!"

        "Okay, Cheesecake, relax.  We've got it under control, now."  Randy
collected his youngest sister in his arms and resumed his explanations.
"One of the guys is an electronics wizard; we figured we'd get the goods on
Sissy and her girlfriends and get them pointed at boys...  We did your room
hoping to find something that would keep me from being lynched when it all
came out."

        "What was in it for you?" Adele asked.

        "Club membership.  Guaranteed sex.  They guaranteed me that I'd get
laid at least once, even if they didn't catch anyone.  If they DID catch
anyone, I was a full member."

        "So you sold us down the river..." Adele muttered.

        "Actually, it was for your own good," Randy replied, straightening
his shoulders.  "Tell me you didn't have a good time!"

        "That's beside the point!" Adele barked.

        "No, that IS the point!" Randy insisted.  "Each of us was desperate
-- and willing to do desperate things!  Now we don't have to!"

        Adele grimaced.  "I hear that your sister is a virtual slave to that
Damian Carter!"

        "He BEAT me!" Alyssa interjected.

        "I was there for a lot of it," Randy admitted.  "I watched it.
Sissy caught some crap, but she was a lot better, afterward.  It did wonders
for her attitude.  Besides, she got a boyfriend out of it -- and if she
plays her cards right, she'll keep him!  How awful is that?"

        Alyssa opened her mouth -- and shut it.  Reputation aside, Damian
was one smooth character; it wouldn't hurt to go through her Junior year of
high school with him as a trophy -- especially if she could prove she was
holding onto him...  "He's mean," she pouted.

        "Only when you're bad," Randy replied.  "I saw you two at the
pool..."

        "Well..." Alyssa looked away.

        Adele watched this exchange, bemused.  Alyssa lost it -- that was
the first surprise.  Randy never let her get on top -- that was the second.
And it didn't escalate to open violence, either!  THAT was pretty amazing,
too!  Actually, when she thought about it, Randy was holding his own against
her, too!  He seemed so much more... confident...  "Well, maybe it's turning
out okay, but it was STILL wrong!"

        "So was what you two were doing that triggered it!" Randy insisted.

        Adele grimaced.  Clearly, he was NOT going to be brow-beaten and she
was NOT going to win!  "Yeah, yeah..."

        "That's just... yucky!" Brie hissed.

        Adele cocked her head and eyed her younger daughter.  "This thing is
going to ruin YOU, I'm told!  What wild thing do YOU have planned that I'm
not supposed to know about?"

        "I like boys, at least!" Brie declared hotly.

        "What is it?  You're not having sex, are you?" Adele pressed.

        Brie looked stubborn.  She opened her mouth, closed it.  Adele
watched her re-think her position.  Then she looked sly.  "It depends who
you ask!  President Clinton would say no..."

        Adele's eyes bugged.  "You want to give blow jobs to boys?  I forbid
it!  Randall, this will NOT happen -- no matter WHAT promises you made!"

        "Too late, Mama," Randy replied, giving the official cover story
worked out before they all left Carpenters, "by the time we heard that you
might have a problem with it, it was already a done deal."

        "Omigod!"

        Brie was grinning from ear to ear.  "I sucked two!  I like cum!  I
like making boys shoot it, too!"

        "I want to know who..." Adele ranted.

        "Well, give it up, Mama, because they went to a lot of effort to
make sure Brie doesn't know and I don't know -- heck, the guys who got
sucked don't know!"

        "What?  How?"

        Randy took it up.  "We built some little booths -- three of them, in
a row.  They just had holes to stick... well, you get the idea.  Little
Cheesecake never saw the guy, and he never saw her.  They used all three
booths and juggled it up.  One of the mothers probably knows, but good luck
even finding out who, never mind getting her to tell you about it!"

        "B-but...  That sounds nasty..."

        "It wasn't, Mama.  One of the ladies came in with me to make sure I
didn't get hurt or anything.  Heck, Sissy even watched!" Brie insisted.

        "It's still... awful!" Adele instated.  "I'm going to call Louise
and..."

        "Oh, drop it, Mama!" Alyssa ranted.  "There were seven or eight of
us back there and we had a ball!  It was a party!  YOU should try it!
Besides, No one MADE Brie do ANYTHING!  SHE made THEM put that whole thing
together!  It would be different if they had suggested the whole thing..."

        "Who DID suggest it?" Adele demanded.

        "Well..." Randy looked embarrassed.  "I don't remember, exactly, but
it came out of me trying to give her what she wanted."

        "Why?" Adele asked.

        "She knew too much, and was going to blow the whistle!"

        "Uh huh.  So YOU asked for this?"

        "Actually, I asked Big Brother to..."

        "Oh, LORD!"  Adele didn't have to hear the rest.

        "I couldn't do THAT!" Randy argued defensively.

        "She was just jerking your chain!" Adele insisted.

        "I was not!  I was stealing his rag!" Brie insisted hotly.

        Adele blinked.  "His rag?"

        "You know!  The one he..." Brie's hand motion was unmistakable.

        Randy blushed; Alyssa tittered.  Adele tried HARD to keep a straight
face...  "And what were you doing with it?"

        "Smelling it.  It's great!  Musky...  It makes my cunny itch!"

        "Good Lord, Brie!" Adele exploded.

        "See?" Randy muttered defensively.  "I HAD to do SOMETHING!"

        "Cheesecake's a cum slut!  Cheesecake's a cum slut!" Alyssa caroled.

        "Better than being a DOG slut!" Brie fired back.  Alyssa shut up.

        Adele glanced at her older daughter; there was something there that
might need pursuing, later.  "So, we're all members of this... club..." she
began.  "What's next?"

        "We're going to bring in Sissy's girlfriends, one by one," Randy
replied.  "Sissy has to help."

        "Two by two would probably be better," Alyssa grunted.  "It's what
they're used to."

        "When?" Adele asked.

        "Soon," Randy replied.  "I don't know when.  I think they're gonna
wait and make sure we don't do anything stupid...  Or maybe YOU'RE not
gonna..."

        "Meaning that you're good with what's happening, then?" Adele
pressed.

        Randy met her eyes.  "Yes.  Don't tell me you don't see the
benefits."

        "What about your sisters?"

        "They aren't hurting, either."

        "Oh, yeah?  You should see my ass!" Alyssa declared.

        "I watched you for a while, afterward," Randy replied blandly.

        "Okay, so, they..."  Alyssa hesitated, then sighed.  "It was good,
all right?  Is that what you wanted me to say?  It was STILL rape, sort of."

        "You can't rape the willing..." Randy insisted.

        "I WASN'T willing -- I just enjoyed it, that's all..."

        "I bet you never go back to dogs..."

        "RANDY!  MOM!"

        "Shut up, Sissy!" Brie ranted.  "Just shut up!"

        Adele sighed.  "We're ruined!"

        "Nah.  It's just getting good!" Randy argued.

                       ----------------------------------

        The next morning, Adele's parting shot was, "Stay home!  You're all
grounded!"  Uncharacteristically, Alyssa took this well, but Randy's eyes
challenged her.  "Please?" she followed it up with, just moving her lips.
Randy nodded.  Adele went to work reflecting that Randy's resistance wasn't
Alyssa's; Alyssa resisted her reflexively because she was being stubborn and
childish, usually, while this thing of Randy's signaled that he was becoming
independent.  He was a man, not her little boy any more -- and he was making
his own choices.

        Terence called at about ten.  "How'd it go?"

        "Mama freaked about Brie and the blowjob booths," Randy related.
"We're all grounded."

        "Want me to have Mama pay her a visit?" Terence asked.

        "Maybe.  She won't be home until late, though."

        "Maybe she can fix things over the phone."

        "Hey anything is better than no fucking thing," Randy sighed.  "I
almost bucked her, but it didn't seem worth it."

        "Well, she's gonna have to settle down, that's for sure," Terence
replied.  "We can sit on her if we hafta."

        "Yeah.  Well, whatever.  She'll settle down.  Probably."

        "Oh, yeah.  She'll settle down -- or we'll sic Damian on her!"
Terence laughed.

        Randy chuckled.  "Yah, that might do it."

                       ----------------------------------

        Hank Garber was sitting on his front porch, enjoying a fine funk.
Summer sucked.  It was fucking hot and he didn't have a pool.  Dad was
inside fooling around with this and that, pretending to prepare for the
first football practices -- which were in three weeks, about two weeks
before school started.  Hank knew that his Dad was pretending, because Dad
pretended to do EVERYTHING these days; nothing was happening, really.  Oh,
he would lift the burden when the time came in the fall, but until then he
was useless.  Hank had his learner's permit and technically had to have
someone else in the car with him -- but either he drove or they didn't eat.
What Dad was REALLY doing wasn't clear -- but not a whole lot was visible,
THAT was for sure!

        Suddenly, Toby was standing there at the end of the sidewalk.  Hank
had never been so happy in his life!  "Hey, how's it going?" his friend
asked.

        "Sucky.  Dad's in la-la land, totally," Hank sulked.

        "You need to get out of here," Toby counseled.

        "Got no money."  Hank had planned to work that summer -- but instead
he was babysitting his father...

        "You've got a swimsuit, right?  C'mon, I'm going to Rick's place and
you're invited!"

        "No shit?" Hank perked right up.  "Be right back!"  He dashed
inside.  "Dad!  I'm going over to Rick Flanders' house with Toby, swimming!
Be back in a while!"

        "Okay, be careful.  I'll be here -- got a few things to do..."
Martin Garber resumed fiddling with some old plaques; Holly had been
planning to hang them up on the wall, somewhere...  He drifted off into
memory land, looking vaguely at his study walls.  Today was just too hard to
deal with; better that he lived in yesterday...

        Hank rolled his eyes while he slid out of his shorts and into his
swimsuit.  "Yeah, right..."  He looked like shit in swim trunks -- hairy,
skinny legs like fuzzy stilts down to his track shoes -- but he looked like
shit in virtually EVERYTHING, so...  There was some guy in the funny paper
that he kept waiting for somebody to screw with him over his resemblance to;
thank God it hadn't happened.  He threw on a muscle shirt (ha ha), snagged a
towel from the linen closet, and was outside again in about seventy-five
seconds.

        Toby was still there, proving that he wasn't a mirage; ther two of
them headed up the street.  "I haven't seen you since summer started," Hank
chided.

        "It's been a seriously weird, busy summer, Man," Toby related.  "One
thing after another.  You can't imagine."

        "So tell me," Hank replied.

        "I'll get to it.  Later."  Toby seemed bothered.  Hank let it go.

        "Fuckin' hot," he rejoined.

        "Yeah," Toby agreed.  "Rick's pool will feel nice."

        "Yeah, no shit!"  Hank was REALLY looking forward to it; his house
lacked air conditioning.  Well, it was busted, and he had no way to fix
it...

        Rick's house had air conditioning; it wafted out when Rick opened
the door.  Rick waved him in and the three of them headed through the house.
Rick's mom was in the kitchen; Hank just waved, but Toby stopped beside her.
"Jean?" he said.

        "Yes, Dear?"

        "We're going out back for a swim.  Why don't you throw on a suit and
come out back with us -- maybe with some iced tea?"

        "All right Dear," Mrs. Flanders said blandly.  "Which suit?"

        "The white one, I think," Toby replied.  "We don't want to give
anyone a heart attack."

        Mrs. Flanders nodded.  "The blue one might make me look fat now,
anyway."

        "Oh, not yet, I'm sure," Toby disagreed, smiling.  "See you
outside!"

        Rick threw open the slider and they stepped out into the hot, muggy
air.  Hank didn't really notice; he was... bothered.  Rick shouldn't have
approached Mrs. Flanders that way, never mind Toby!  It offended the manners
that his mother -- and his dad -- had instilled in him...  Toby called her
Jean -- apparently, it was her first name -- and he asked her -- told her --
to do things...  He turned to Toby, "Why did you do that?"  He turned to
Rick, "Why did you let him?"

        "What?" Toby asked.  Rick looked mildly confused.

        "Mrs. Flanders..." Hank stammered.  "The way you talk to her... it's
not polite..."

        "Oh."  Toby looked mildly upset.  "Look, Hank, it's complicated.
But we'll talk about it."  Rick looked mildly amused, which confused Hank
even more...

        The water was great, though, so Hank put it all aside -- until Mrs.
Flanders showed up in a miniscule white bikini!  "Holy sh...!"  Hank
collared himself before it all got out, turned and headed for the far end of
the pool.  Hanging off the pool edge, he took another look.  Mrs. Flanders
looked better that a lot of teenage chicks in that suit; okay, she didn't
have a lot up top, but she had that model look...

        Toby surfaced next to him, grinning.  "Nice, huh?"

        "Shhh!  Rick will FREAK!"

        "No, it's cool, Man.  We figured you could use a little excitement,"
Toby replied.

        "Well, THAT worked!"  Hank's boner was rock-hard.  "But she's Rick's
mom..."

        Toby chuckled.  "So she's not a woman?"  Rick surfaced about then,
too.  "Hank's all bent out of shape about Jean."

        "Well, hey, I appreciate your concern, Man, but Mom does what she
wants.  I spent a long time just thinking of her as Mom, but she's a woman
to other guys, you know?" Rick counseled.

        "I wish I had a mom that looked like that!" Hank muttered.

        "No you don't," Toby replied.  "It's better if she's NOT your mom;
then thinking about what you're thinking about isn't incest!"

        Hank grunted.  "I see your point.  Still, drooling over Rick's mom
probably isn't polite."

        "If she didn't want you drooling, she'd have worn a one-piece," Rick
chuckled.  "Older chicks like to be drooled over -- it lets them know
they're still sexy.  Mom didn't think she was for the longest time..."

        Toby saw an opening, so he used it.  "There are studies that say
that the only women who hurt for sex like guys our age are women around
thirty-five.  And most women around thirty-five..."

        "...Are somebody's mother!" Rick finished, grinning.

        "You make it sound like she's available!" Hank groused.

        "Well, maybe she is!" Toby retorted.  "You kind of have to look
around..."  Changing the subject, he said, "So, when did you get laid last?"

        "Very funny!" Hank growled.  "What about you, Smart Guy?"

        "Yesterday, that would have been.  Yeah, yesterday." Toby pretended
that it was hard to remember.

        WHAT?!"

        Toby turned to Rick, "What about you?"

        Rick eyed Hank, "Do blow jobs count?  I got one of those yesterday.
Oh, hold it -- I had sex, too!"  He and Teela had done a smoking little
session at her house when he took her home.  Teela had been excited from the
booth party and had been absolutely wild!

        "Aw, c'mon, guys!" Hank erupted.  "Quit pulling my leg!"

        "We're not, Man.  We discovered a whole new pool -- virtually
untapped.  But there is no end to the complications..." Toby insisted.

        "Like what?" Hank wanted to know.

        "Supply and demand.  We opened up a new supply, and now we have to
keep up with the demand.  Then there's the other thing; there's nothing like
confidence to sack you a woman.  Once you know what you're doing, they smell
it, somehow.  Rick's got a girlfriend," Toby replied.

        "No shit?"  Hank examined Rick like he'd grown an additional head.
He turned to Toby.  "What about you?"

        "Well, theoretically, my options are open, but I've got a chick
trying to put a hammerlock on me, too.  Problem is, then others go wanting
-- besides, there are complications with THAT, too."

        "Like what?"

        "You want to marry a thirty-something chick?" Toby asked.

        "It wouldn't be my first choice," Hank admitted.  "Still..."  He
gazed across the pool.

        "Yeah," Toby agreed.  "There ARE exceptions."

        "Well, maybe," Rick grunted.  "But it is STILL complicated, and
you're asking for trouble!  We have to talk her out of this crazy idea she
has..." He stopped himself.

        "You guys are serious!" Hank exclaimed.  "Does your mom know?"

        Rick snorted.  "Yeah.  She knows, all right."

        "What does she think about it?"

        "In general, she thinks it is insane.  In particular, though, she
makes exceptions..." Rick chuckled, shaking his head.

        "So she didn't freak?" Hank asked, wide-eyed.

        "What about?  All this sex thing?" Rick asked.  "Yeah, she freaked,
initially, but she's cooled down.  She had to."  He chuckled.  "Her and my
girlfriend are like sisters.  They even LOOK like sisters!"

        "Hey, do you guys want this stuff or not?" Jean yelled, waving the
tea pitcher.

        "Coming!" Toby yelled and pushed off; the others followed.

        Hank snagged a towel as quickly as he could when they came out; his
swim trunks molded themselves to his boner.  Toby redirected the
conversation by telling Jean, "Hank is upset that I call you by your first
name."

        Jean smiled ruefully.  "I TOLD you that would happen!"  She turned
to Hank, "Since I'm pretty sure I know what these two are probably up to,
why don't you call me Jean, too?"

        "I dunno..." Hank worried.

        Jean wrinkled her nose.  "It's okay if I say it is.  Trust me.  Mrs.
Flanders is an old woman.  Am I an old woman?"

        "Uh, no..."

        "The things I have to do to get a compliment..." Jean grinned.

        "You should have heard what he said over there!" Toby laughed.

        "Hey!" Hank howled.

        "Oh, so you're a lecher like these two?" Jean giggled.  "Well, I'll
accept it in the manner in which it was intended."

        "Uh, thanks." Hank blushed fire engine red.

        The conversation moved on to safer subjects, eventually coming
around to Hank's father.  "Dad is torched; if he didn't have tenure, they
would probably fire him," Hank grunted.  "Thank God he teaches history and
he has the books memorized.  I don't have to tell you how much the coaching
has slipped."  He shook his head.  "Summers are the worst.  He has nothing
to do -- and that's what he DOES do -- nothing.  Absolutely nothing."

        "He must have loved your mother very much," Jean said gently.

        "I think he wishes that he'd died, too," Hank grunted.  "My life is
Hell.  Nothing gets done; I have to shop and clean house and..."  He threw
up his hands.  "I don't know what is going to happen when school starts -- I
can't do it all."

        "I had that when Rick's father died," Jean related.  "I had to go on
for Rick, but it wasn't fun.  Your father needs to get out and meet people
-- re-energize himself."

        "Not gonna happen," Hank said sourly.  "He doesn't leave the house."

        "He needs to get laid," Rick opined, deliberately being gauche.

        "So do I!" Hank exclaimed, rolling his eyes.  "But you may be
right..."

        Jean surprised Hank by agreeing.  "That might help..."

        "What am I going to do?" Hank rasped.  "Import women?  If I could do
that..."

        "Yeah, yeah -- there would be a revolving door on your bedroom!"
Toby laughed.  "In the real world, Man, enough is enough and too much is a
problem..."

        "That's my kind of problem!" Hank exclaimed.  "I'd take THAT for a
problem ANY time!"

        "Mom, do you think we could have some chips?" Rick's eyes dismissed
Jean.

        "I'll go see what I can find..."  Jean moved off, as requested.

        "What if," Toby leaned in and murmured, "we could get you that kind
of thing?  Hot and cold running women?  How bad do you think you want it?"

        Hank sat back.  "You're jerking my chain, right?"

        "Let's say I'm not," Toby replied.  "What would you do to get in on
such a deal?"

        "I don't understand."

        "Okay, it's like this," Toby explained, "If there was such a deal,
it would probably be closed for membership, you know?  And super-secret,
too, because some of the members probably wouldn't want to be fingered for
one reason or another.  Let's say you had to do some kind of initiation to
get in -- and whatever it was wouldn't be strictly legal, because the group
needed blackmail material on you to be safe from you blowing the whistle on
them.  Would it be worth it to you?"

        "Gee, I dunno," Hank mused.  "What is 'not strictly legal'?  And why
the secrecy?"

        "Groups built around sex are NORMALLY secret -- because there are
jerks out there who judge you.  But let's take another case -- the young
guys and older women one.  That's illegal, Man, if you're under age -- the
woman can go to jail!  And I remind you that at that age, she's probably
somebody's mother.  Some jerk would draw inferences..." Toby's voice trailed
off.

        "Oh.  Yeah, I get it," Hank grunted.  "Is this for real?"

        "It might be," Rick replied.  "Maybe we ARE jerking your chain, to
see how you'd react -- but maybe we're not.  Pretend we're serious and give
us serious answers."

        "How do you think you would be with, say, black chicks?" Toby
queried.

        Hank frowned.  "Our age?  Or older?"

        "Both."

        'They're jerking my chain,' Hank decided.  "Yeah, right."

        "It's a serious question, Man," Rick insisted.  "What if the chick
is, oh, say, Chinese, or Mexican?  What if she's fat?  What if she's kinda
fugly?"

        "Come on!"

        "Seriously," Toby rejoined.  "Supposed we could hook you up with a
pool of about a dozen chicks -- all shapes, sizes, and ages -- who are
willing and able -- or, at least, able -- to fuck.  Let's say that, for the
purposes of argument, you could reasonably expect to fuck ALL of them.
Would you be interested?  What would you consider doing for the initiation?"

        "A dozen?" Hank shook his head in disbelief.  "I can't imagine you
guys coming up with a dozen chicks.  I can't imagine you guys coming up with
ONE!"

        Toby did some counting on his fingers.  "We're doing a membership
drive; there are about eight right now, but two of them are on, um, limited
activity.  There are six more on tap, which would bring us up to fourteen.
Problem is, there are only five guys..."  He eyed Hank significantly.
"Maybe six."

        "It could be that all six of the new girls are cherry, too," Rick
added.

        Hank sat up, eyes wide.  "You guys are serious?"

        "You're our friend, Man," Toby replied.  "But this is a one time
offer.  If you're not interested, it'll never come up again and this
conversation never happened."

        "What kind of initiation?" Hank asked.

        Toby sighed.  "Right now, we think we're looking at three options.
One isn't illegal, but it might be just too embarrassing.  One is DEFINITELY
illegal.  And one involves Coach -- and IT would be illegal, too, but it
would bring Coach in.  Whichever one we do would be on video, and used as
blackmail material to keep the group safe.  Now, we wouldn't USE it on you
-- just keep it to ensure silence..."

        "If this is a gag..." Hank warned.

        "We're VERY serious!" Rick insisted.  "I realize how it sounds, but
people could get hurt -- we have to protect them!"

        "Let's hear it," Hank sighed.

        "Okay."  Toby gathered himself.  "Option One is gay sex.  It isn't
illegal, but it would be pretty damned embarrassing, right?"

        "Holy fucking shit!  No way!" Hank howled.

        "Option Two is pretty illegal.  It's, like, getting a blow job from
a twelve-year-old."

        "Jeezus!" Hank gasped.  "And Option Three?"

        "It's similar, in some ways," Toby replied.  "We get Coach to do a
sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl."

        "Good luck with THAT!" Hank grunted.

        "Even if she was, like, totally obvious?" Toby prompted.

        "Dad is broken.  I think you'd have to fix sex in general, first."
Hank sat back.  "Jeezus, guys, you're asking a lot!"

        "We're offering a lot!" Rick retorted.  "You have no idea!"

        "If you're playing some game, I'd end up fucked!" Hank howled.  "I
need some kind of proof that this isn't a joke!"

        Toby thought about it, hard.  Hank was right; while they were deadly
serious, he couldn't know that he wasn't walking into a trap.  Hank needed
proof -- from someone outside the conversation.  Someone older.  Someone
with impeccable credentials...  "Okay, how about this -- I'm going to bring
Jean over here and ask her some very careful questions.  When she's done,
it's up to you."

        Hank threw him an amazed glance.  "You're kidding, right?"

        "Nope."

        "Okay."

        Rick grunted, "I don't like this."

        "I'm asking the questions.  I'll be careful," Toby promised.  He
turned to Hank.  "You're not going to get much.  This exposes Jean, to a
certain extent; I don't even know if she'll tell the truth -- I wouldn't, in
her place..."  He waved at the house, "Jean!"

        "Yes, Dear?"  Jean came out with a tray of chips and dips.  "How's
it going?" she asked carefully.

        Toby threw Hank a significant glance -- and, yeah, Hank had noticed.
"Kind of rocky.  You know what we're up to, right?"

        "I think so," Jean replied carefully.

        "We had some ideas for the initiation, but they're pretty scary.
Hank is, well, understandably worried that we're pulling his leg.  I'm going
to ask you a couple of questions so he knows we're not trying to get over on
him.  Are you game?"

        "Toby..."

        "I know."  Toby limited himself to that -- and waited.

        "Okay.  But I reserve the right..." Jean began.

        "...Not to answer.  No problem," Toby assured her.  "Ummm...  Are
you aware of any special clubs or groups that Rick and I are members of?"

        "Yes."

        "What would you say is the primary purpose of that club or group?"

        Jean hemmed and hawed for a moment.  "To provide sex for the
members, I guess."

        "Are there any, um, initiation requirements?"

        "Yes."

        "What are they?"

        Jean stood there for a long moment.  "This is necessary?"

        "Yes."

        Jean turned her attention to Hank.  "New members are... compromised,
for the safety of the group.  Usually, they perform a sex act on video --
one either illegal or otherwise damaging to the person involved.  Sometimes
a relative is held hostage in this manner."

        Hank leaned forward.  "Are you a member?"

        "You don't have to answer that!" Toby interjected.

        "I believe I already have," Jean replied.  Turning to Toby, she
added, "This is incredibly dangerous!"

        Toby nodded.  "Yes, it is.  I'm sorry.  It was the only way I could
think of to reassure him."

        Jean turned to Hank.  "The group exists.  I opposed it at the start,
but it's too late for that.  At this point, I have no voice, anyway, and
would look like a hypocrite if I complained.  I think that the boys are
probably correct in inviting you.  But that's all I want to say about this."
Upset, she turned and stalked off.

        Hank rubbed his face.  "Okay, I'm convinced.  Now what?"

        "Do you want in?" Toby asked.

        "Yeah."

        "Okay, then we have to set up an initiation..."

        Hank felt their eyes on him.  "You got anything else besides these
three ideas?  Maybe I can shoot up a mall or something?"

        "Hey, we're open -- but these have worked in the past.  There's an
additional one for females, which has been more or less popular, but, well,
you're not built for it."  Rick just missed chuckling.

        "Gay sex," Hank grunted.  "Like what?  Blowjobs?  Giving or
getting?"

        "Giving's probably the one," Toby allowed.

        "Yuck."  Hank sighed.  "I'd LOVE to see Dad doing some hot young
babe, but..."

        "We'll work on that, anyway," Toby promised.  "We can use the
additional headcount, and it would be good for him."

        "That seems to leave screwing around with a kid..." Hank sighed.

        Toby nodded.  "That might take a few days to organize, but it CAN be
done.  We could probably set up Option One in a no-fault way, if we worked
at it, but..."

        Hank waved.  "I wouldn't be thrilled."

        "Okay.  We'll tell you when we can set things up.  Let's hit the
pool again!" Toby suggested.  Serious topics went by the wayside for a
while...