“Yeah, I was missing you so much I had to come in. It’s your muscles, Wayne, they get into your mind, draw you in.” He flexed a bicep and gave it a puckered kiss. “These guns can make you want to write a love poem or sing a tribute song in the key of muscle,” said Wayne. “That is exactly what they do. You are a sexy man, Wayne, sexier than a cream horn on top of a polished school bell.” “I know, that’s why I have three girlfriends.” “Have you actually met any of them?” “Only one.” “And is that one your mother?” “No. Your mother.”
