Chapter 9

nine

T here was indeed plenty of hot tentacle sex to be had, and Ozzie could not be happier.

He still hadn’t gotten around to asking Tuesday about his future plans, but there never seemed to be a good time to bring it up. They were always having such a good time, and he was worried that he’d somehow spoil it.

Or worse—force Tuesday to make a decision right then and there, one that resulted in him leaving.

Shit, shit, shit.

Maybe tonight would be the night.

It just had to be.

They were headed over to Ozzie’s parents’ house tonight for their family Christmas party, and Ozzie was already sweating bullets. He’d dressed comfortably, in a simple green sweater and jeans that he hoped passed as an effort to be seasonal.

Tuesday, of course, was wearing a bright red Santa sweater, green slacks, glittery red boots, and his black fuzzy shawl.

It was loud, obnoxious, and wonderfully Tuesday.

Ozzie squeezed Tuesday’s hand as they walked up the snow-covered sidewalk that led to the front door of his childhood home. The place was decorated to the fullest, with no piece of the house or yard left uncovered in lights, garland, or some kind of inflatable creature.

He had not inherited that particular gene.

“So, right.” Ozzie coughed. “Like I said before, I’ve never brought a guy home, so I apologize if my family is absolutely insufferable.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Tuesday smiled. “I haven’t done a lot of these meet the family gigs, but I know for a fact I am very adorable. We’ll be fine.” He leaned in to kiss Ozzie sweetly.

The front door abruptly opened, and Granny, Ozzie’s grandmother, a tiny woman with long white hair stared at them with wide eyes. “Oh. My. God.”

Ozzie sighed. “Hey, Granny. This is?—”

“They’re here!” Granny screamed. “And they’re sucking face on the front steps!”

Ozzie could have died right then and there and considered it a Christmas miracle. “Granny!” He knew his face was as red as Tuesday’s sweater. “This is Tuesday. Tuesday, this is my Granny.”

“Hi!” Tuesday waved. “It’s so nice to meet you. I hear you make the best fruitcake in the universe.”

Granny gasped, and she grabbed Tuesday’s arm, dragging him into the house.

“Hey!” Ozzie chased after them. “Come back with my date!”

Granny pulled Tuesday into the living room where Derrick and his wife, Racquel, were seated on the sofa next to the tree. Uncle Robert and his wife, Dana, were chasing their kids, Samantha and Felicity, around in circles trying to wrestle fake candy canes away from them.

Ozzie’s father, Tucker, was tending to the fire and greeted them with a friendly smile. “Heya, Granny. What’d you find out there, huh?”

Granny waved at Tuesday. “This here is Tuesday, and we’re keeping him.”

Hearing the instant glowing approval from Granny warmed Ozzie down to his bones, and he grinned as Samantha and Felicity immediately forgot about the candy canes and rushed over to investigate Tuesday.

“Whoa!” Samantha cried. “Look at his hair!”

“It’s pink!” Felicity gushed excitedly. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Tuesday giggled. “Oh! Well, hi there! I think your hair is pretty cool too! I like your bows.”

Samantha and Felicity both squealed, hitting notes that probably only dogs could hear.

“Hey there!” Tucker shook Tuesday’s hand. “Tucker Silverman. Pleasure to meet you, young man.”

“Nice to meet you too, sir!” Tuesday said politely. “Thank you so much for having me over!”

“Of course, of course.” Tucker clapped a hand on Tuesday’s shoulder. “Happy to have you. We always have plenty to eat.”

Granny poked Tuesday’s middle. “Oh, just you wait. I made three different flavors!”

Ozzie laughed as everyone continued to fuss over Tuesday, joking, “Sheesh, what am I? Invisible?”

“You don’t like my fruitcake,” Granny accused. “Hmmph.”

“Never fear.” Ozzie snorted dryly. “Tuesday will clear out all the fruitcake in this place.”

“Hey, hey!” Derrick was up now, and he came over to pull Ozzie into a big hug. “Don’t worry. I can still see you!”

“Thanks, man.” Ozzie chuckled, patting Derrick’s back.

“Hi, sweetie. Hey, I can see you too!” Racquel teased as she swooped in to give Ozzie a hug. She turned to Tuesday, smiling warmly as she hugged him next. “Hey! I’m Racquel! Derrick’s told us so much about you!”

“Oh, has he now?” Tuesday teased. “Some of it might even be true.”

“Bah, not much.” Derrick shrugged. “Just that you’ve made my brother the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Like…” He paused to reflect. “ Ever ever.”

Ozzie could not stop blushing, and he wondered if this was just going to be a factor all through dinner.

Probably.

Tucker brought Ozzie’s mother, Gena, over to meet Tuesday, and Ozzie couldn’t help but smile as he watched everyone hovering around Tuesday like he was a famous movie star. He really wanted them to adore Tuesday as much as he did. Maybe if the whole family was behind him, it would be easier to convince Tuesday to stay.

Soon, it was time to eat, and Gena ushered them all to the dining room where a gorgeous dinner straight out of every Christmas movie ever was laid out for them.

Turkey, ham, rolls, mashed potatoes, green beans, deviled eggs, and of course, several types of fruitcake.

Ozzie’s stomach rumbled with a mix of nerves and hunger as he took Tuesday’s hand and brought him to the side of the table he always sat on. He pulled out a chair for Tuesday, and his mother instantly squealed.

When he handed Tuesday the basket of rolls, his mother squealed some more.

Yup, that was going to be a thing.

His family cooed at every cute moment the pair shared throughout the delicious meal. He was grateful nobody interrogated Tuesday as he’d expected, instead happy to enjoy his company and how clearly enamored the two of them were of each other.

Other than a tiny game of catch with some of the rolls, everything was perfect. It wasn’t long before Granny was passing out plates of her horrible fruitcake, and everyone headed to the living room to avoid it and enjoy their yearly watch of Trapped in Paradise .

It was a fun Christmas romp about a trio of brothers who rob the bank in a sleepy little town called Paradise. Shenanigans promptly ensue, and it was one of his family’s all-time favorite Christmas movies.

As much as Ozzie wanted Tuesday to enjoy it as well, he couldn’t wait another moment to talk to him.

He didn’t want Tuesday to leave, not ever, and he needed to tell him.

“Hey, baby.” Ozzie coughed and fidgeted. “You, uh, get enough fruitcake?”

Tuesday beamed, hugging his loaded plate to his chest. “The correct answer is never.”

“Right, well. Uh.” Ozzie fidgeted some more, blurting out, “You wanna come see the decorations in the back yard?”

Tuesday smiled. “Back yard, huh? They decorate there too?”

“Oh yeah, there’s decorations covering every inch of this place. Their holiday debauchery knows no limit.” Ozzie chuckled and took Tuesday’s hand, lacing their fingers together tightly. “Come on. I’ll bet there’s some mistletoe out there.”

“Mistletoe?” Tuesday squeezed Ozzie’s hand and set his plate down. “Ooo, are we gonna suck face again?”

“If you’re lucky.” Ozzie grinned, winking as he tugged Tuesday away from the rest of the family. He ignored Derrick’s playful gawking and his mother’s silent applause. Granny looked miffed that Tuesday hadn’t finished all the fruitcake yet.

This was fine.

It was fine.

He could do this.

His heart slammed against his ribs, and his throat closed on him as he led Tuesday out onto the back patio.

The backyard was a holiday scene of its own with a family of light-up reindeer grazing under his parents’ apple tree, an illuminated blowup mold of Santa, and a giant inflatable snow globe with a dancing snowman inside wobbled against its ties at the edge of the patio. Lights covered every tree in the yard, bathing the entire snowy scene in a colorful glow.

“Holy shit. You weren’t kidding!” Tuesday laughed in delight, snuggling against Ozzie’s side. “This is amazing, baby. Like Santa came right down here and puked everywhere.”

“That’s exactly what I tell them!” Ozzie snickered as he curled an arm around Tuesday to hold him close. “My parents are Christmas crackheads. They are on a holly jolly high from November to about February.”

“February?”

“Yup. Pretty sure they only take the stuff down ’cause Mom wants to put out all her Valentine’s stuff.”

“Wow. That’s incredible. And a bit concerning. Are they okay? Do they need help? Blink twice if I need to call a doctor.”

A delighted bark of laughter left Ozzie’s lips, and he hugged Tuesday even tighter. “Fuck, you’re perfect. You know that?” His cheeks ached from smiling so big, and as he looked up at Tuesday’s face he knew this was the moment.

Now or never.

“Really perfect. Like, the most perfect.” Ozzie breathed in deep. “Tuesday, every second with you has been, well, perfect.”

“Yeah?” Tuesday smiled sweetly and he hugged Ozzie close, his voice surprisingly soft as he said, “I’ve never been this happy, baby. I know it hasn’t been that long, heh, but yeah… Perfect sums it up pretty well.”

Okay, yes.

Tuesday was happy too.

Maybe this would be easier than Ozzie thought.

“I’m really glad to hear you say that, Tuesday.” Ozzie swallowed, pulling away so he could turn and face Tuesday. “I was really hoping I could, uh, convince you… to stay. You know, forever. Maybe. Yes. Forever.”

Tuesday’s eyes widened and glowed brighter than the lights blinking around them, and he gasped. “Forever?” He swallowed hard, searching Ozzie’s face. “You... You really want me to stay? With... you?”

Ozzie’s heart climbed up into his throat, his fingers trembled as they clung to Tuesday’s, and he inhaled slowly. Tuesday’s gleaming eyes were the prettiest shade of pink Ozzie had ever seen, radiant and bright, and he wanted to get lost in them forever.

“Yes,” he said. “Forever, babe.”

Tuesday laughed excitedly, his eyes damp. “Oh, Ozzie, I... I wanna tell you something. I know it’s crazy and way too fast, but I?—”

A flash of white light came from the sky, and there was a strange rumbling that shook the ground beneath their feet. The little family of reindeer fell right over, and the inflatable snow globe lost its moorings, blowing across the yard as gusts of winds blew through the backyard from above.

Only Santa remained, his glassy gaze unfazed.

Ozzie stumbled and grabbed Tuesday, steadying him as the patio cracked and the entire house trembled behind. He could hear glass shattering along with the screams of his family as the home quaked, and he froze, gasping, “What the fuck is that?”

“Oh no.” Tuesday trembled. “No, no, no.”

A giant centipede-snake creature with a long body and way too many buff, bulging arms shimmered into view, standing only a few feet away from where the snow globe had just been. It was a brilliant shade of red, and scaled, and it was wearing strange sectional black armor like something out of Dragon Ball Z , and its long, twisted face was pulled back in an angry sneer.

Ozzie stared, terror gripping him tight and keeping him held frozen in place. “What the fuck? Who the fuck are?—”

One look at Tuesday’s horrified expression told him all he needed to know.

This was Greg.

His ex.

“Aw, there you are, gorgeous,” Greg purred in a deep voice, the sneer morphing into a sinisterly sweet smile. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Hi, Greg,” Tuesday spat, herding Ozzie behind him. “Hey, look! You found me. You can fuck off now.”

“Shit.” Ozzie stumbled a bit. “That’s him. That’s Old Greg?”

“Yes, this is my shitty ex, Greg.”

Greg held out several hands. “Let’s go, gorgeous. I think you’ve had enough fun, but it’s time to go home?—”

“No!” Tuesday snarled, his legs stretching so he could stand tall enough to stare Greg down. “I’m not going anywhere with you! You fucking psycho! How did you even find me, huh?”

Greg rolled his eyes and thrust a hand forward, stabbing it into Tuesday’s chest.

Ozzie didn’t even recognize the scream that ripped from his own throat as he watched Greg punch through Tuesday’s torso and out the other side.

“You!” Tuesday grunted as Greg’s hand twisted inside of him, his body convulsing and twitching as he fought to stay in his human form. “You... ass... fuck... face!”

With about as much efficiency as an ant, Ozzie threw himself at Greg, punching and grabbing as many of his stupidly muscular arms as he could. “Get the fuck away from him, you ugly cockroach motherfucker!”

Greg did not look impressed, and he picked Ozzie up by the back of his coat, lifting him off the ground. “Ew.”

“Put me down! Put me down right now, you fucking piece of space junk!” Ozzie thrashed, clawing at the hand holding his jacket but unable to twist around to reach. “Tuesday! Babe! Are you okay?”

“Great… So great. I love being fisted,” Tuesday croaked weakly, groaning in pain as Greg pulled his hand back out. “Ow, fuck!”

“Quiet now, gorgeous.” Greg was now holding a small silver ball. “You stole my inter-dimensional portal generator and didn’t think I’d be able to use it to track you?” He clicked his tongue. “Shame on you, gorgeous. So pretty, but so, so stupid.”

“Leave Tuesday alone! You fucker! Tuesday!” Ozzie turned his attention to the giant hole in Tuesday’s chest, watching as it filled up with pink goo. “Baby? Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby! I’m okay!” Tuesday glared furiously at Greg. “Hey, put him down. Right now, or?—”

Greg dropped Ozzie. “There. Happy? Now.” He gestured for Tuesday to approach. “Let’s get out of here, hmm? We can watch the planet implode from the ship.”

Ozzie fell to the patio with a thump, his breath knocked right out of his lungs. “You’re not… taking him… anywhere!” He scrambled to his feet, his back aching as he gasped for air. “He’s not yours! He’s not leaving with you, and nobody is imploding anything! Why don’t you choke on some eggnog and then fuck off back to whatever planet you came from?”

“Is this what you’ve been amusing yourself with?” Greg grimaced at Ozzie. “It’s so… fleshy .”

“I like him fleshy!” Tuesday snapped defiantly. “Now, in case you missed it, I dumped you. I left you. I fucking hate you?—”

“We can discuss it later. Please, gorgeous. Not in front of the fleshy lower life forms.”

Ozzie looked between them, grimacing. “Can we stop saying fleshy ? It makes me feel weird.”

Tuesday pouted. “Aw, but baby, I love your fleshy stuff and?—”

“ Enough !” Greg grabbed Tuesday’s arm and pulled hard, the silver ball wobbling in his hand.

Ozzie’s focus zeroed in on the ball.

The device, the intergalactic what-the-fuck-ever it was, seemed very important to that creepy bastard.

A plan instantly formed in Ozzie’s mind—maybe not a great one, but it was a plan all the same—and Ozzie launched into action before he had a chance to chicken out. He dove for Greg, slamming into him and snatching the ball right out of his hand.

“Ozzie!” Tuesday yelped.

“Got your ball!” Ozzie took off into the house, glass crunching under his feet as he darted inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?—”

“Come back here, you fleshy little... flesh... thing!” Greg snarled furiously, charging after Ozzie and cramming himself through the narrow doorway. “Give that back right now!”

“Help! Need help!” Ozzie shrieked.

Derrick was trying to calm a very frantic Samantha and Felicity while an equally frazzled Racquel cradled them close. His head snapped back, staring in horror at Ozzie with Greg right behind him. “Uh. Dude. What is going on?”

“Derrick!” Ozzie shouted. “There’s a giant bug, dragon, fucker, some thing about to come in here. Looks like Mushu! But evil! Weapons! We need weapons! Give me a fucking hand!”

“What, what?” Derrick shoved Racquel and the children toward the kitchen. “Shit, shit shitting shit! Go! Get out of here! Take the girls and go!”

“Sweetie!” Racquel protested for a moment, but then she saw Greg too and screamed. “Holy fucking shi?—”

“Language!” Granny scolded as she hurried over, steering Racquel and the children to the kitchen behind her. She had a baseball bat, a golf club, and a giant plastic candy cane. She saw Tuesday and Greg struggling outside, and her eyes bugged out. “Holy fuck .”

Ozzie couldn’t stop the manic laugh that escaped as he took the candy cane from Granny. “So, guys, uh, this is Tuesday’s ex. He’s an asshole. Sorry, Granny.”

Tuesday had morphed his arms into long tentacles, clearly no longer concerned with keeping a human shape, and he struggled with Greg to pull him out of the doorway. “Leave them alone, you?—”

Greg flung Tuesday away like a booger, and Tuesday’s body made a particular splosh sound as it hit the patio. Greg crawled farther into the house, his long body slithering forward as he roared, “Give me back my device! Now!”

Granny strode boldly forward, the golf club raised above her head.

“Granny, no!” Derrick gasped. “Come back here!”

“Goddammit, Granny!” Ozzie groaned loudly, turning around to chase after her.

Greg let out another roar, the Christmas tree rattling and a few ornaments falling off.

“Hey!” Granny raised the club over her head. “What’s ten minus six?”

Greg was so startled by the question that he laughed. “Excuse me? Are you lowly little Earth things so stupid that you can’t complete simple mathematical equations? Please, obviously, the answer is?—”

“Fore!” Granny screamed, swinging the club down and wailing on Greg’s face repeatedly.

Ozzie’s immediate reaction was laughter.

Followed by terror.

Because his tiny grandmother was beating an intergalactic asshole with a golf club.

Yes, she seemed to be holding her own, but still.

“Derrick! Catch!” Ozzie tossed the silver ball to Derrick and then ran to join Granny in beating Greg with his candy cane. “You motherfucker! You’ll fucking pay for this, I swear! Yippie-ki-yay, bitch !”

“That’s from Die Hard !” Tuesday shouted from outside. “Love that one!”

“Ow, stop! Quit it!” Greg hissed. “That’s really annoying.” He swung out with his many arms, taking a few swipes at Ozzie and Granny. “I would really love to just blow up your planet and be on my way!”

A pink tsunami of glittering slime suddenly engulfed Greg and squeezed around him, forcing all of his arms down against his sides. It was Tuesday, and he snarled angrily, “Stop… hurting... my friends!”

Derrick grabbed a dessert plate of neglected fruitcake and hurled it at Greg. “Yeah! Fuck off, Greg!”

Ozzie cheered as the plate shattered against Greg’s face. “Nice fucking shot!” He looked up at Tuesday’s glittery mass, asking, “Tuesday! What do we do?”

Tuesday shuddered, clearly struggling to keep Greg at bay. “Fruitcake! We need the fucking fruitcake!”

“Strawberry, apple, or classic?” Granny screamed as she continued to slam her golf club into Greg’s face with impressive ferocity.

“Tartaric acid! That’s it!” Ozzie stared at the fruitcake that had bounced back behind him and Granny. “Derrick! Throw the cake!”

Derrick scrambled over to pick up the fruitcake, grunting as he hurled it at Greg.

It landed short beside Granny’s feet.

Granny took a step back and got into position, lowering the club to swing.

Tuesday twisted himself tighter and tighter, and then he jabbed a glittery tentacle into Greg’s eye.

Greg howled frantically, his jaws opening wide as he cried out in pain.

Tuesday screamed. “Now!”

Granny swung, driving the chunk of fruitcake right down Greg’s open maw.

Greg sputtered and gagged, coughing as he spat out a few chunks. “What is this...? It’s... Ugh, it’s awful!”

“Yeah!” Ozzie punched the air as he ran to grab as much fruitcake as his hands could hold. He hurried back, cradling the horrible mushy cakes against his chest. “Granny!”

“Come on, boy!” Granny shoved her gold club into Greg’s jaws to prop his mouth open. “Shovel it in there!”

Ozzie shoved an entire fruitcake inside Greg’s mouth and then another, and he tried not to gag from the damp fruity smell. They were going to run out of baked weaponry and fast, and so far, it only seemed to piss Greg off.

There had to be another way to get Greg out of here—the ball! That stupid ball!

“Tuesday!” Ozzie shouted. “Can you program that ball inter-whatever thing to send him to the surface of the sun or something?”

“Yes!” Tuesday shot out a pink tentacle all the way over to Ozzie, gesturing wildly. “Give it to me! Quick!”

“Here! Here!” Derrick rushed to Ozzie’s side to drop the ball in Tuesday’s tentacle.

“For the last fucking time, Old Greg!” Tuesday fiddled with the device for a few seconds and then hurled it down Greg’s throat. “We are fucking done!”

Ozzie shoved the remaining fruitcake down behind it to make sure nothing came back up, shouting, “Merry Christmas, ya’ filthy animal!”

“ Ermpphhh ?” Greg seethed.

Grabbing Tuesday’s tentacle and Granny’s hand, Ozzie frantically backed away from Greg. “Come on, baby! Get away from him! He’s gonna beam outta here!”

“Coming!” Tuesday grunted as Ozzie pulled and he unwrapped himself from Greg. He ended up as one big blob of pink glittery slime in Ozzie’s arms, melting like a cone of ice cream on a hot summer day. “There… It’s done.”

Greg retreated out of the house and then staggered around the patio, all of his arms flailing. He tripped over the Santa, and his foot got tangled up in the cord. He pulled the golf club out of his mouth and gagged, but ultimately swallowed down everything in his gullet. “Wait, wait, no! Where are you sending me? Where are you—” He screamed furiously and then simply...

Poof .

There was a brief zing of static in the air, an odd buzz, and Greg was gone.

Along with the blowup mold Santa.

“Whoa.” Ozzie gasped. “Where, where did you send him?”

“Far, far, far the fuck away. Straight to his mother’s.” Tuesday was still a blob, but it sounded like he was smiling as he reached out for a tentacle to stroke Ozzie’s cheek as he said, “Hey... That’s... That thing you said. The animal thing. That was from Home Alone . I know that one. ’Cause we watched it.”

“Fuck yeah, we did.” Ozzie hugged Tuesday tight. He turned to check on Derrick and Granny, asking breathlessly, “Is everyone okay?”

“That bastard made off with my best driver.” Granny scowled.

Derrick raised his hand. “I think I pooped.”

Ozzie snorted. “Well, it’s a good thing I told Mom to get you more underwear for Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah!” Derrick frowned. “Wait, really? Underwear? Lame.”

Ozzie smiled down at Tuesday and hugged his blobby body against his chest. “Tuesday? You good?”

“Yeah, baby. Nothing a little time and a bunch of orgasms won’t fix.” Tuesday slowly melted back into his human form right down to his festive Santa sweater, and he smiled drowsily up at Ozzie. “So, yeah, that’s my ex. Real king of the douche bagels.”

“You are never gonna have to deal with him again.” Ozzie kissed him fiercely. “Fuckin’ Old Greg. What an asshole. Just showing up here on fucking Christmas.”

“King of the douche bagels.” Tuesday laughed. “Pretty sure we covered this.”

Tucker and Gena rushed out from the kitchen to embrace Ozzie and Tuesday, and Gena demanded, “What in the world is going on? Why, why was that monster here? Why, why did Tuesday look like he was made of taffy? What is going on?”

Granny rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? Ozzie brought an alien home for Christmas.”

“I sure fucking did, didn’t I? Got my very own alien for Christmas.” Ozzie laughed, cupping Tuesday’s cheek and pulling him into a sweet kiss. He brushed his thumb over Tuesday’s glittery skin, and he couldn’t wait another second to say what had been resting on his heart for days.

“I love you, Tuesday,” Ozzie said. “My beautiful, gooey alien.”

“Ozzie!” Tuesday squeaked and melted—literally. He promptly grew two more arms just to hold Ozzie tighter, and his lower half turned into slime as his eyes grew damp. “You mean it? Really really? No takesies backsies!”

“Nope. Don’t worry.” Ozzie grinned. “No takesies backsies rules are in full effect.”

“Good.” Tuesday beamed. “Because… I love you too.” He kissed Ozzie passionately, curling all around him.

“Ew!” Samantha squealed. “Why are they kissing!”

“Gross gross gross!”

Gena took a deep breath and smiled. “So, uh… is everyone ready to open presents then?”

Tucker blinked. “Uh, honey, aren’t we going to talk about the monster or the alien?—”

“Presents,” Gena snapped, her voice hitting a shrill note. She lowered her voice and said more calmly, “I am going to get a broom and clean up this mess, you and the boys are going to get everyone eggnog, and then we’re going to open presents.”

“I can’t unwrap mine in front of my family.” Ozzie smirked and brushed some of Tuesday’s hair back from his face.

“Later.” Tuesday batted his lashes. “When we get home then.”

Hope bubbled up in Ozzie’s chest, and he asked as casually as possible, “So, does this mean you’re staying?”

“Baby, I’ve been all over the universe and back again.” Tuesday chuckled. “Nowhere’s felt like home until I sat on your damn couch, smoked a bowl, and watched that hot-ass Daddy dwarf flirt with that skinny little elf.”

Ozzie kissed Tuesday again, his heart full and racing away. Somehow, he’d gotten exactly what he’d always wanted, and now he just couldn’t wait to be alone with Tuesday to show him exactly how grateful he was.

“What’s a bowl?” Samantha asked loudly.

The entire family groaned.

“We’ll tell you when you’re older. Much, much older.” Ozzie grinned sheepishly. “So, uh, right. Who wants eggnog?”

“I’m gonna egg your nog,” Tuesday whispered slyly.

“Shh. Later.”

“Promise, baby?”

“Promise.”