."Chug a chug a chug a CHUG!" Down the hatch went the latest shot. Mitt felt the drink course through him, shredding his inhibitions. But he stood tal.... He could hold his liquor as if it were water."I can do anything. WOO!" he screamed.Pounding dance music roared through the night, ringing through his ears. Huddled groups of young men were clustered together, downing shots, lifting beer mugs, eyes drifting. Crowds of girls stood in separate clusters, giggling, laughing, their fingernails long. It wasn’t all fire and brimstone, either. It was very personalized, customized, just like Heaven. Dad and Mr. Corbin were both getting very rough up the ass and had been ever since their deaths.It turned out that my adoptive parents, whatever their flaws, had loved both of us, but they hadn’t known how to express that love very well. They were still trapped in Catholic morality and feared for our eternal souls, so they made me live on my own and rough it for about a month or so before offering. More

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