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Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout sexual-massage, right? Like, what’s the deal with it? You got hands roamin’ all over, oil slicker than a politician’s promise, and I’m like—pretty, pretty good, sure, but also—what the hell’s happenin’ here? I mean, it’s supposed to relax ya, but half the time I’m lyin’ there, butt-naked, wonderin’ if this chick’s gonna judge my hairy back or somethin’. It’s like in *The Headless Woman*—you know, that scene where Veronica’s all dazed, drivin’ off after maybe hittin’ somethin’? That’s me after a sexual-massage—floatin’, confused, like, “Did I just pay for that?”

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But then, I remember the lab. I rush back, and guess what? The “monster” is gone. Just a little fizzing. I’m like, “Seriously? I freaked out for this?” Ana’s laughing at me, and I can’t help but join in.

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