Queer bent bastard

“Yeah, I swim,” I replied.

“Cool, cause we’re going to spend the day in the pool and then barbecue up some of the best steaks you’ve ever tasted,” he responded with a grin.

Fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into the driveway of one of the most grandiose houses I had ever seen. It looked like it should have been on some huge southern plantation in the seventeen-hundreds. It was unbelievable. The fact that there was a four-car garage attached to the east end of it only made it seem that much bigger. As we drove up, the third door opened and Kent drove in and parked.

Just as we were getting out of the car, a high pitched voice rang out. “Kennntt, the chain came off my bike again! I’m supposed to go over to Kenny’s for a sleepover!” I turned to see where the voice had come from, only to see a miniature Kent come running across the front of the garage.

“Okay buddy, where is it?” Kent responded.

“Over by Dad’s car,” the little guy answered.

“This is Chad,” Kent then said to him. “And this little monster is my baby bro, Scotty,” he informed me.