Chapter 6

“Why do you go along with this whole reindeer thing? You seem like you genuinely enjoy it, but I just don’t understand why,” I asked my mom. She was such a refined woman, yet she willingly participated in something so degrading—she even let me stick a candy cane up her asshole. It had to be humiliating to expose herself like that, letting everyone see her pink ass as though she’d been punished like a misbehaving child. I needed to understand, once and for all, what drove her to do this.

I wasn’t buying the whole “it’s the thrill” explanation either—I wanted to know her real motivation.

Mom exhaled softly, her posture relaxing just slightly. “Because,” she began, her tone measured, “this ‘reindeer thing’ is the one night of the year I don’t have to be the perfect mother, wife, or even just ... Lilly Davidson. Every other day, I’m the one making sure everyone’s fed, clothed, and keeping it together. Tonight, I get to let that go. I can laugh, play, and take myself a little less seriously. And yeah, it’s silly, crazy, and maybe even embarrassing at times—but it’s my night to have a little fun and do unexpected things. Yes, I love to do it—one night a year, Sir.”

This time, the way she used “Sir” felt different—less sarcastic, more thoughtful. It wasn’t exactly reverent, but there was an undercurrent of respect as if she was acknowledging my role in the game in a way that wasn’t begrudging. Feeling confidence swelling, I wanted to address one more idea that had been nagging at the back of my mind. Others were talking amongst themselves, but it looked like the game was about to get started up again after a short little break to lube up the candy cane.

“Your father doesn’t get it either, but some girls just get a thrill out of humiliation and teasing. I used to be high strung and worry about what everyone thought of me. I still do, 364 days out of the year. Tonight, I’ve worried about what you thought of me, and I am trying not to. You’ll just have to get used to the idea that your mom is a horny reindeer. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” I admitted I was still having difficulty getting my mind around it. “I don’t have a reindeer, and I know the rules is you have to bring somebody to the party to exchange, but what about Blitzen? She has no rider” I gestured toward Mrs. Sanderson, trying to sound casual. She seemed dejected and lonely, and I liked her.

“Oh, look at Nick,” Cupid teased wickedly, eavesdropping on the conversation. “Already picking favorites. Got a little crush on Blitzen, do you?”

My aunt didn’t expect a response, and I didn’t even look in her direction. I could tell Blitzen overheard as well.

The group of DSL ladies joined in with exaggerated “oohs” and playful mockery. My face burned, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mrs. Sanderson, praying she wasn’t as embarrassed as I was.

Mom’s expression hardened slightly. “You didn’t swap for her. You aren’t her rider. I don’t think you fully understand what it means to be a rider. She’s our neighbor and my age,” she said firmly, making it clear the question wasn’t negotiable.

“But...” I trailed off, fumbling for the right words. “If Gary is Donder’s rider, and he’s about Dad’s age, and if it’s uncomfortable for you to obey me, why not let me be in charge of Blitzen? Isn’t it part of the fun for you to follow the rules and be humiliated at least one night a year? I guess that is why she is here.”

Mom’s jaw tightened briefly, and I braced for her to shut me down. But then her shoulders eased, and she sighed. “I didn’t say that I was uncomfortable,” she said evenly, though the look in her eyes suggested otherwise. “But who’s to say Blitzen would be any less comfortable with you playing this all by ear? If I was going to invite you to this party, I would have told you what to expect and not have you learn the rules and expectations by baptism under fire.”

No one at the party seemed to take the rules all that seriously, except perhaps my mother. I understood where she was coming from. It would have been much more mature for me to find out what to expect ahead of time. I made a mistake, but there was no going back and doing it over.

Blitzen stepped forward; her voice soft but steady. “Actually, I don’t mind. I was getting a little bored, anyway,” she admitted, her cheeks pink but her smile warm. “If Nick doesn’t mind putting up with me, I’d be happy to help.”

Mom gave her a relieved glance, her lips curving into a small smile. “Fine,” she said with a nod. “It’s not really up to a reindeer, but you have my blessing. All I ask is don’t wear out my neighbor or make her not want to come back to these parties. And remember, even though you can put me in the corner tonight, I can put you in the doghouse for the other 364 nights of the year! Ask Eddie and the guys what they think.”

I summoned the courage to ask Eddie and the guys if I could be Blitzen’s rider. Eddie barely even looked up at me. “Sure, why not, if she wants it, and you do too, go for it.”

I grinned faintly and decided not to push my luck any further. There was no lengthy debate – it was done. The game continued, and I really didn’t care any longer about it. There was a lot of trash-talking from the reindeer and the guests. I was on cloud nine.

I took stock of the victories I had achieved. It wasn’t about hand-eye coordination and winning at pinning the tail on the reindeer. I got a few slaps on the back and “nice jobs!” for that. However, what mattered to me was I was allowed to stay at the party; More importantly, my mom’s respect for me had grown. Comet wasn’t just tolerating my presence anymore; she was playing along, giving me room to assert myself. I also had an official reason to speak to Mrs. Sanderson – I was now technically “her rider”.

Whatever that really meant.

The playful chaos of trash talk and laughter filling the room. Prince’s 1999 thumped in the background, with everyone, especially my parents’ generation, bobbing their heads and singing along to “2000-zero-zero, Oops, out of time!”

I barely paid attention to who was up next and the trash talking around the pin the tail on the reindeer – or the shaking asses of the winners as they stuck their butts out and playfully heckled or aided the next guy in line.

Blitzen and I had been in the back rank together, two shy newbies navigating an unfamiliar space. I noticed she was standing eighth in line, which meant I had opportunities to chat with her during each cycle.

I didn’t bother to even try to pin the Reindeer when it came my turn to do it. I had accomplished what I wanted with the game.

As I stood near the back of the line again, I caught Mrs. Sanderson glancing my way with a small, knowing smile. Her quiet demeanor and introspective nature stood out in the midst of the chaos. I smiled back, looking into her deep, doe-like eyes. It felt like now or never.

“That was kind of you,” she said softly, leaning in so her voice wouldn’t carry.

“Asking if you could be ridden by me? I mean, if I’m your, uh, rider?” I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush as the words left my mouth. I cursed myself for being tongue-tied. Talking to girls my own age was hard enough; talking to a woman like Blitzen—beautiful, sensitive, mature, and as voluptuous as any of the others—was something else entirely.

Blitzen’s smile turned sweet, her laughter light and genuine. “That as well,” she nodded warmly and chuckled, laughing as if I had intentionally stumbled - like an adorable Paul Rudd in every rom-com when he first meets the love interest that Paul’s going to sweep off her feet.

“But I meant asking your mom ... you know, if she liked being a reindeer,” Blitzen clarified why she was impressed with what I said. I hadn’t even thought about it until that moment.

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in the conversation. I hadn’t thought about it as a big deal – but presumably, the other men didn’t question the women’s reasoning for being here – or at least they still didn’t. They must have asked that question when they first started coming, and now, they were satisfied with the big butts and the big smiles as reason enough.

“I mean,” she continued, her voice lowering further, “it’s not something most people would think to ask—if it hurt to be pinned or if they enjoyed it. But I get why you did. I was wondering if I’d enjoy being here.”

At that moment, I wasn’t sure why I asked my mom if she liked it, but it felt important. Now, thinking about it, I realized I just didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable—or worse, hurt. I shrugged, still unsure how to explain it. “I guess I just didn’t want to make it weird for her—or, you know, hurt her.”

Blitzen nodded in agreement with me thoughtfully. “You didn’t want to hurt your mom, and you wanted to make sure she actually liked the game. I respect that. Lilly’s tough—she doesn’t let much faze her—but I think she appreciated it. It says a lot about you, Nick.”

I had stopped thinking of my mom as “Mom” or “Lilly” and now really processed her as “Comet” only – but I immediately recognized that to my neighbor, my mom was “Lilly”.

“What about you; you said you wondered if you would enjoy being a reindeer? Do you?” I asked.

I heard the crowd go nuts for some girl getting pinned, or an epic failure to pin them – I am not sure which. Eddie passed around half-tequila shots, and the song changed. It was Van Halen’s “Jump” -creating excitement.

“This is blowing my mind. I’ve never done anything sexual like this. I’ve never been tied up or spanked. It’s the wildest thing I have ever done.”

“So, you will be back next year?”

“I am not sure,” my neighbor said introspectively. “What about you?”

“I’d like to come back. I think my mom would allow it as long as I am here.”

“Your mom isn’t in charge of anything tonight,” Blitzen reminded me. “She’s like me – we are here to serve you. If you stand her in the corner or tell her to squat and hold her mouth open, she’ll do it. I will too. When you were in the kitchen, your Dad and Eddie took her into another room and spanked the snot out of her- to make it clear that she wasn’t to run you down and keep giving you the evil eye. I know it’s got to be weird to French kiss your mom, but she’s supposed to be just another reindeer to you, the same as me or your sister and aunt.”

“It’s weird – are any of these other women related to one another?” I felt it was a bit unfair that I had so many family members in the party.

“I don’t know the DSL girls that well. I feel like they look a lot alike, but you’d have to ask them.”

“How did you get interested in this?” I said, while grooving to David Lee Roth’s rock anthem and Eddie Van Halen’s guitars and synthesizers.

“Lilly talked me into coming tonight,” she admitted, her tone soft. “I wasn’t sure about this at first. We started talking a few months ago. I was living vicariously through all of your mother’s grand adventures, listening to her stories. I didn’t dare do anything naughty, especially not like this. My husband ... well, he’s not exactly the adventurous type. He’d lose his mind if he knew I was here.”

I was disappointed to learn that Blitzen had a husband – she wasn’t wearing her wedding band. I had hoped somehow maybe there would be some connection after this, and I could stop by her house.

“Then why did you come?” I asked, genuinely curious. I was also curious about my mother’s “grand adventures” – what were those all about?

Blitzen smiled, but there was a flicker of something deeper—nervousness, maybe, or excitement. “Because sometimes, you just need to do something different. Something unexpected. Something that reminds you who you are, outside of all the expectations. Lilly promised it’d be fun, and, well, she wasn’t wrong.”

I hesitated, the words forming before I could stop them. “But ... you’re married. Doesn’t that make this—”

“Complicated?” she finished for me, her voice soft. “Yeah. It is. I am cheating on my husband, or at least I intended to. You know that at the end of the party – as my rider you get to fuck my brains out, right?”

“Wha...?” I tried to contain my happy shock and play it off like I obviously knew that.

“If you want to, that is, I am fat and old enough to be your Mom,” she offered in a self-deprecating way. She was gorgeous and intoxicating to me. In a room full of blondes, she stood out because she was sensitive, and different.

Most of them were metaphorical hot rods, and she was more of a sensible sedan – but I wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to her!!

“I want to be naughty, Nick!” she bit her lip and slid forward slightly out of line – I could have embraced her and kissed her right then.

At that moment, Marty missed his pin on Dasher, and the room erupted in playful jeers. “Better luck next time!” someone called out while Dasher threw her hands in the air triumphantly. “That’s what happens when you aim too low, Marty!” she teased, laughter echoing as the game carried on.

Blitzen’s gaze lingered on me; her voice soft but curious. “So ... what made you decide to come to a party like this? I mean, it’s not exactly the usual crowd for someone your age.”

I was glad that Blitzen didn’t bring up when I was caught by my Uncle Eddie and almost frog-marched before my mother in the living room, disrupting the reindeer swap.

She must have noticed my hesitation because her expression softened as if she could sense the nerves creeping up on me. “I grew up hearing about this party,” I began, trying to sound casual, “but no details—just that it was for adults only, and every year, my sister, little brother, and I had to go somewhere else. Harley went last year and seemed to enjoy it. So now that I’m an adult, I wanted to check it out for myself. I didn’t know what to expect—honestly, I kind of regretted coming at first. It felt like I was intruding. But now ... I’m glad I did. I feel like I’m starting to understand my mom, my family, and maybe even myself a little better.”

Blitzen chuckled softly; her smile warm. “Your mom didn’t exactly throw me to the wolves if that’s what you’re thinking. I guess you could say I had some ... reindeer training,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “Last year, your mom, Daisy, and the rest of their crew went caroling door to door. They weren’t exactly in their Sunday best, though—just big red bows like they were Christmas presents all wrapped up and spreading holiday cheer. The neighbors loved it. Most of them seemed to expect it, even. But we had just moved in, so it was a bit of a shock.”

“My mom and her friends knocked on your door, wearing nothing but Christmas bows?” I asked incredulously. If I wasn’t sent off every Christmas eve, I’d know about this about this. I felt envious that the rest of the neighborhood probably knew about this tradition.

Her smile turned wry, her gaze dropping briefly as she recalled the memory. “I knew they weren’t wearing anything underneath the bows – just birthday suits and jingle bells. My husband rolled his eyes and called them attention-seekers, and my daughter thought it was some kind of dare. But me? I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t just the boldness of it—it was how much fun they looked like they were having. They don’t go door-to-door anymore, they got in trouble.”

She hesitated, then added, “A few days later, I saw your mom at the mailbox, and I finally worked up the courage to ask her about it. She wasn’t surprised at all. She just laughed and said it was all in good fun, like a cheeky tradition they had. That’s how we started talking, and one thing led to another. She told me about the games and what to expect, and even let me practice a few things ahead of time so I’d feel comfortable. So no, I wasn’t completely in the dark when I came tonight. I knew what I was signing up for.”

Blitzen’s smile softened as she looked back at me. “It’s actually really fun. Your mom’s philosophy of doing this just one day a year—it makes sense. Honestly, I think I could stand a weekend of it now and again. I like being told what to do sometimes. Waking up knowing what my plan is for the day without having to think too much about it. It’s freeing in a way.”

Her tone shifted slightly, tinged with humor and a touch of exasperation. “But my husband? His idea of something like this would be a list of chores, bills to pay, and yard work to get done. Practical, predictable ... boring.”

“Flashing while singing Christmas carols ... sounds exciting!” I said, trying to seem like my mind wasn’t blown that my mother did that. I played it off like it was a perfectly normal thing to walk door to door wearing only a big red bow over your ass, tits and pussy and belt out “Deck the Halls” – my mom was a real thrill seeker, and I had no idea!

It was strangely hot, even though it could have landed her in some hot water if people took offense!

“This year, I think we are supposed to walk down to the park at the end of the street and carol in the gazebo, wearing just Santa sweaters and panties! We’ll have silver bells attached to us, so we can jingle-jiggle around.”

Blitzen shimmied, her tits and ass bouncing as she did.

“Wow!” I couldn’t believe the women could get away with that.

“Some of the girls pooh-poohed the idea of panties, because they never wear them, your Aunt included. The idea is we are supposed to pretend we don’t notice when our suit rises up. I’ve never flashed in public, but the DSL ladies do it all the time – it’s like a sport to them.”

I had no idea!! “My mom flashes in public as well?”

“Yeah, you could say that. She is a little more subtle than some of the other girls. Your sister does when she’s with your mom, but I don’t know her well enough to say that she does it all the time. You won’t see the caroling anyway, but I’ll snap some pictures – one of us has to take pictures for the scrapbook.”

“Why wouldn’t I go with you?”

“The winner of the next two contests stays behind with the men and takes care of them. The rest of us go caroling. It gives us something to do before dinner.”

“You don’t think you will win?” I asked.

“I am a big fatty, Nick. I can tell you like me, and maybe that’s because I am not intimidating like all the hot girls here. I have to first get pinned and then enough rings tossed on my candy cane to be declared the winner.”

“You WANT to be pinned and win?” I asked.

“Heck yeah, I’ve never made it with TWO guys at once can you imagine having the attention of eight guys at once? But imagine having seven steaks and one big stack of sliced bologna, and you get stuck with the lunch meat? The other guys would prefer any of the other girls.”

I frowned, I didn’t want to lie to her – she was probably right. I just didn’t like her low self-esteem.

“Who won last year?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t here. As I understand it, your Mom and Aunt are VERY competitive and get a little ruthless in order to win. There are still other games and prizes to be had. I think it will be fun to carol. I am just glad I don’t have to show up at my own house with my ass hanging out.”

“You would if they decided you had to?” I asked.

“I think my marriage would be over, but it might be a fun test to see if my husband even noticed me in the back row, with all the pretty blondes to stare at,” she giggled playfully.

Eddie’s booming voice cut through the chatter. “Tequila time!” he hollered, passing a bottle and a row of small shot glasses down the line. Prince’s 1999 faded, replaced by the thumping beat of Beastie Boys’ (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To party) blasting over the speakers, the perfect soundtrack to the room’s infectious energy after one of the DSL ladies had an epic pegging with a candy cane. I wasn’t even watching. I was too busy staring at Blitzen’s massive tits and pretty doe eyes while learning all I could about her.

The funny thing was—my neighbors seemed to know more about my mom’s holiday antics than I ever did. Every Christmas Eve, while I was away, they expected her and her friends to show up caroling and pulling off something racy. If I’d known that, I might’ve had a better idea of what I was walking into tonight.

Eddie’s booming laugh cut through the din of conversation, loud enough to turn heads. “That’s how you pin a reindeer, folks!” he hollered, throwing his arms up theatrically as if Evan had just won an Olympic gold medal.

I glanced over to see Dasher’s face light up with excitement, her cheeks flushed as Evan stepped back from the wall, looking equally triumphant. Eddie grinned like a kid who’d just pulled off a prank, making a show of clapping Evan on the back and passing out shots. I noticed Daisy hovering nearby, fussing with a bottle of lotion and a new dildo. It was my Aunt’s turn to be pinned.

Harold, one of the more easygoing guys at the party, leaned against the wall, waiting for her to wrap up and turn herself into a party game!

Imagine being naked at a party, and all the members of the opposite sex are fully dressed. If that wasn’t humiliating enough you’ve got Christmas decorations and rope hanging from your body to make you more of a party decoration. Imagine; having to serve these people and put up with their teasing, and now you have become a party game they are using to amuse themselves?

I am a nice guy, and I respect women – but goddamn, did that make my dick hard for reasons I could not fathom.

I turned back to Blitzen, who accepted a shot from Eddie with a small, hesitant smile. She held the glass up to the light, studying the amber liquid like it might hold the answers to some great mystery. “Good thing these are only about half-full, or I’d be schnockered,” she muttered, her tone bitter but self-deprecating.

She tipped her glass toward me in an impromptu toast and tossed it back, but the way her face scrunched up as the tequila hit her tongue made me smile. She set the glass down and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, shaking her head. “God, that’s awful.”

“You’re not a party girl, huh?” I teased lightly.

“Not in the least,” she said, laughing softly. “I hate hard liquor, but I am trying new things – a lot of the stuff we have to do here is going to seem degrading, cruel, or even silly – but it’s like drinking tequila.”

“How so?”

“it can burn going down, make you nauseous, even throw up, but you do it anyway, because everybody else is,” she laughed so sweetly that I just wanted to kiss her.

“Didn’t you say Comet and Donder trained you?” I asked, leaning in slightly – changing the subject. “What was that like?”

My Aunt entertained the crowd by jerking off the dildo and sucking it. She demanded some “Real music, Play Toby Keith! Not this pussy shit.”

I wasn’t into country, and didn’t recognize the singer’s bass voice when the song began, but everyone else did and they sang along to the words.

Two, a-one, two, three

Now, red Solo cup is the best receptacle.

Daisy yelled “No, My warm cunt is the best receptacle- for Toby Keith’s spunk!”

For barbecues, tailgates, fairs, and festivals

And you, sir, do not have a pair of testicles...

Blitzen let out a sigh, though the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. “Oh, they were relentless – not like here. They were bossy, and didn’t let me say no. Your mom and sister had me squatting, running laps, learning how to ‘take the reins,’ so to speak. I lost 17 pounds in three months.”

“Seriously? For this party?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it was THAT big of a deal to anyone.

She nodded, her expression turning a bit more thoughtful. “Oh, they are serious about it. Your mom plans these parties out well in advance. She didn’t want me to embarrass myself by failing to be able to squat or get squeamish about being pinned. She wanted me to be embarrassed and humiliated the way we are supposed to do it.”

I found that ironic, on some level. The girls had set themselves up to be the objects of ridicule – something I still didn’t fully understand.

“Honestly? I kind of loved it. I had to do stretches every morning—things like lunges and these weird squats where I had to keep my back straight no matter how much it burned. And if I so much as wobbled, she’d just smirk and make me start over. I stuck things up my butt that I thought had no business going up my butt. All so that I could do this game. By the way, are you going to whiff and not try to pin me, when I go up there?”

“Whiff?”

“You are just swinging wildly, not even trying,” she observed. “You are whiffing it. Are you going to try to pin me?”

“Oh, I don’t want to hurt you,” I admitted.

“I practiced for three months so someone could stick one of those dildos up my ass- it seems a waste if you won’t even try,” Blitzen’s innocent grin turned very suggestive.

“What if you have to go poop or something?” I asked – realizing that was stupid and sounded completely moronic.

Her laugh told me that she thought it was naïve, but she forgave me. “Not many guys would care about that, Nick. You are so sweet. If you must know, every girl at the party completed two enemas before we stepped out here – I think some took a third enema – your Mom and Daisy make a game of it. My insides are clean as a whistle – you won’t get any of my chocolate on your finger or dildo, if that’s what you are worried about.”

I didn’t know much about enemas – I assumed somehow that it meant she did not have to poop and that it was safe to stick things in her ass. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about that game that my mom and aunt had played! However, the casual way that Blitzen described her poop as “chocolate” excited me, and I knew it shouldn’t turn me on – but it did. I didn’t want to seem like a total perv and ask about “peanut butter” or continue the topic.

She seemed perfectly fine with the topic, not offended in the least – like someone who might even find farts funny - which only endeared her to me even more.

Blitzen changed the subject back to her preparation for the party. “I was on a special diet. No sugar, no junk food. Everything had to be lean and green—chicken, fish, veggies, you name it. I was practically living on smoothies and salads. Harley would text me at random times, asking for proof of what I was eating. I had to practice eating hot peppers, hot dogs fresh out of the oven. I know it sounds weird and hardly sexual, but stuff like that is part of the reindeer games. She even came over one night with your mom to clean out my pantry. Dave thought I’d gone insane.”

“Dave didn’t mind?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t understand why they would try to make eating unpleasant for the girls and expect them to want to come back every year.

Blitzen hesitated, her fingers toying with her empty glass. “My husband didn’t take it seriously. He had no idea why I was dieting or the naughty things I did with the food. He thought it was just another one of my phases—like when I tried yoga, or that spin class I hated. But this felt ... different.” She looked at me then, her gaze steady but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “I think he was just relieved I had something keeping me busy and that I didn’t expect him to go on the diet with me.”

“Why do they make it hard for you guys to eat? Make you squat and hold the hot dogs in your mouth while they are still sizzling?”

“Oh, that’s nothing! Wait until Dinner. They call it reindeer feeding! We crawl around on all fours, and they spray whip cream up our asses, like little bunny tails, and make us eat it out of each other. You guys hand feed us while we squat at your feet and smack our butts while we pass by to bring you another plate of yummy ham, turkey, homemade gravy, cranberry jam, sweet potato pie, butter milk pie mashed potatoes for a Christmas feast! I brought a pumpkin pie!!”

She sounded so excited about being made to do things that would seem unpleasant and humiliating to me. “How do you know you will like eating that way? Did you ever try it?”

“I served your Mom and Harley a few times to get the hang of it, but I like the unknown! It’s going to be an experience! I will probably get my face smashed in the pie I brought, but it’s just sort of how that goes.”

“I understand WHAT you are going to do, but I don’t understand why you would take the time to bake a pie, knowing the guys may smash it in your face. I still don’t understand why you would want that. Couldn’t you just stay home and smash the pie in your own face?”

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink as her tummy rolled with continued chuckles. She laughed like I had told the biggest joke. “So, just buy all the ingredients, bake a yummy pie, smash my face in it at home, and call it a day? That’s funny! Sad but funny! I could see doing that out of frustration and loneliness, maybe,” she said with a laugh.

“You aren’t so lonely that you would ever need to do that, Mrs ... Blitzen. I am just saying, why do it at all? Wouldn’t you rather sit in a chair and have the Christmas feast with us?”

Blitzen seemed perplexed, possibly disappointed with me. “I’d expect my husband to ask the same question – why not do it the ordinary way. I think it’s going to be thrilling. I know it seems degrading – but I guess that’s the point – treating seven hot girls and one fatty like a bunch of reindeer to be teased and humiliated. All the other girls will be doing it, and I am not trying to make you feel sorry for me, Sir. I signed up for this – knowing everything ahead of time. You had no idea, even if you crashed the party, so it’s understandable you think we are nuts.”