Gerard opened his front door to see Bert standing there.

"What the -" he got out before Bert brushed past him and into his living room.

"Hi, Bert," Lindsey said from where she was lying on the sofa. She swung her legs up and got to her feet.

"What -" Gerard began.

"Did you see what she did?" Bert said accusingly.

"Who?" Gerard asked.

"Wasn't me," Lindsey said. She looked toward the kitchen. "Oh, I think someone's calling me." She dashed out of the room.

"No one's in the kitchen," Gerard called after her.

"Eliza," Bert said.

Gerard frowned. "Eliza's in my kitchen?"

"She's on the internet," Bert said, pointing a finger at Gerard. "And she wrote a whole story about 'Emma' the hairdresser and 'Paul' the rockstar. And guess who she left out?"

"Gerard the very confused guy?"

Bert slapped Gerard's chest with a bundle of papers. "I've written a soliloquy for Paul. All you have to do is have her insert this in the middle, and I will forgive you both."

"What did I do?" Gerard asked. "And what makes you think Eliza would let me edit her writing? She won't even speak to me."

Bert thrust the papers at him again. "Read it!"

Gerard looked at the first piece of paper and read it out loud: "I'm sorry, Emma, but I can't be with you, because my heart belongs to my best friend Bret, with whom I have had oral sex eleven and a half times. And I would never betray my best friend Bret by hooking up with your skank ass. Anyone who would do that would be a backstabbing, shit-for-brains, talentless asshole with a pointy nose. And if Bret was in my house now, I would offer him a drink. Whiskey, not that cheap-ass shit Jersey beer."

When Gerard looked up from the page, Bert was sitting on the sofa holding the remote control and flicking through TV stations.

"What the -" Gerard began.

Lindsey entered holding a bottle and two shot glasses. She set them up on the coffee table and poured. "Whoever stays conscious the longest gets to blow Gerard."

"Deal." Bert grabbed his shot and downed it.

"Hey!" Gerard said.

"Keep reading, Paul," Bert said.

"But don't I get a say in who blows me?"

"No," Bert and Lindsey said in unison.