“But unless she talks to me, there isn’t much I can do. She won’t talk to Dale, either.”“I called her yesterday to wish her a ‘Merry Chris...mas’,” he said. “I couldn’t get her to talk to me. I think she assumes I’m doing your bidding, Mike.”“I believe it,” I sighed. “Somehow I’ve become the enemy.”“So now what will you do, Mishka?”“There isn’t much I can do. If she won’t talk to me, and she won’t talk to Dale, and given that she returned my gift, I’m at a loss. I don’t think there is anything I. Thecommercial was the Dollar Shave Club, a play on words with the word"save." For a dollar a month, you can have high quality blades delivered toyour door," he said.Joey kept the TV on him wondering how this could be possible. The pitch-man went into detail about the metals used in the blades and howinexpensive it was compared to other alternatives. Finally, it came downto his last line of the ad: "Dollar Shave Club, only for real men."The next commercial followed but Joey was still thinking. Five minutes later Cyndi was lying naked on the bed with her legs spread wide and saying to Jerry, "Okay asshole, let's get it over with," and five minutes later she was begging him to fuck her harder.I watched her fuck him, suck him hard again, and then fuck him some more. Each time he got up to leave she pulled him back down, got him hard and fucked him again. It was four-thirty in the afternoon before Cyndi said:"You have to go. I need to clean up and put clean sheets on the bed before Rob. I was awful at house chores and if asked what the difference was between a mop and a broom I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Luckily, we were fortunate enough to have hired help. Hired help that today had decided to get herself sick with mono and not show. The audacity of some people. Our gas stove had way too many buttons and in search of the right one I lit the wrong stove top which in turn set my sleeve on fire. In blind, white terror I felt someone else take control of my body and take me.