“First off, I don’t even want to know what a sandy pussy sandwich is,” I say, shaking my head. “Second off…” “How’d I get in your room?” he asks with an enormous grin, climbing to his feet. “You all ask the same questions. How’d you get into my room? Why’re my panties in your pockets? They’re not, by the way. No panties in here,” he says, lying through his teeth when he pats his bulging pocket. “But the answer is always the same. You summoned me with your mind.” He grins, tapping the side of his head.
