Excerpt:
Mr. Stricklund rocked on his chair and against his binds, to no avail. Finally, Morgan stood up and walked back over to him. Mr. Stricklund glowered at the skinny young man dressed all in uninspired black.
The goth shrugged.
"You see, Mr. Stricklund, we're seniors. This is our last hoorah. We get through this summer, pay our dues, and we're done. We'll never see you again," he explained. Mr. Stricklund shook his head in confusion.
"What he means," the wrestler cut in, "is that we feel we need to make this summer a lasting memory. We want to give a little something back to you."
Janet nodded her approval.
"Sandy?" Janet called. The redheaded cheerleader stood, smiling coyly, and approached the mousey blonde girl. Janet reached out and took Sandy's hand, pulling her to stand in front of Mr. Stricklund.
"What are you doing?" the older man was at a loss.
"Well, we have a bet to settle," Janet explained matter-of-factly. She nodded to Rick. The wrestler stepped up next to Sandy. They exchanged sly glances. "You see, we're not sure what turns you on. And we intend to find out."
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