“Friends?” I scoff. “Matt, I’ll be spending the next year of my life manifesting the shit out of you losing your testicles by an inmate you meet on your first day in jail after committing one of your felonies you seem to find joy in.” His face falls flat. “Don’t you fucking dare.” I press my fingers to my temples and squeeze my eyes tight like a child. “Thank you, universe, for introducing Matt to Homer, the inmate with the vise grip, and popping Matt’s testicles right off his body.” “Stop that,” Matt yells, pulling my hands from my head.
