“Oye, my dick?” I scream. “That’s what you fucking wrote? Oye, my dick? What the hell is wrong with you, Levi?” He pauses, a pinch to his brow. After a second, he says, “I’ll admit, that wasn’t my best work. You can blame yourself. The pressure of running around the locker room hindered my ability to be clever and sexy.” Just then, the locker room door opens, and Hornsby walks in, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees me and Posey tangled up together. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Hornsby finally asks, “Why is your dick on Posey’s knee?” “Is that what that is?” Posey asks,
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