Chris stormed into the living room brandishing a dirty sweatshirt, "What the hell is this?!"

"It looks like a sweatshirt." JC guessed.

"I mean, what's this shit all over it?!" Chris pointed to a stain on the shirt.

"Uh...mayonnaise?" Justin grinned.

"Yhea...Man-mayonnaise, maybe!" Chris threw the sweatshirt at JC, "You owe me a new shirt, damnit."

"Why me? Why not Justin?" JC threw the shirt at Justin, "It's his mayonnaise."

"Because, you're the adult. You're supposed to be the responsible one." Chris yelled. "I let you take my cruiser out because you said Justin needed to get in driving hours for driver's ed. I didn't think you'd be out...making mayonnaise!"

"Well, we didn't plan to," JC blushed, "I tried to be business-like, but Justin insisted on pulling over on this back road...complaining about...how did you put it, Justin? Severe tension? He said he couldn't drive with this severe tension, so he asked me if I'd help him massage it out."

"Okay, fine." Chris frowned, "You should've just massaged him and gone back to driving."

"I did!" JC protested. "He...made the mayonnaise...when I was massaging him."

"You're trying to tell me Justin got off just by having you massage him?" Chris looked at them in disbelief.