“There once was a mutt who put things up his butt and he liked it more than he would say.” “Shut it,” Ethan barked, but I just sang louder. “He liked things round, grown from the ground, as big as a tree or as small as a flea, and shoved them up, up, up his butt, butt, butt.” “Sin!” Ethan snapped and Max gave him the side-eye. “What?” I smirked. “I never said it was about you, Wolf boy, you must just relate to the lyrics.”
