The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “Be that way. We were prepared to play nice, Mick, but you’ve screwed the pooch now.” She lifted her fingers to her mouth and emitted an earsplitting whistle. The door burst open. Peterson marched into the room in his birthday suit, holding a purloined sunflower from Mick’s garden over his head like a baton twirler at the head of a parade. Mick shut his eyes, wishing he could eradicate the image of Pete’s tiny mushroom-sized dick bobbing around. No luck. Peterson bopped him on the head with the sunflower, as if he were a king dubbing a knight, and the gang of naked, dripping-wet revelers that had swarmed into the room grabbed Mick and hoisted him over their shoulders like a human sacrifice. They carted Mick out of his bedroom, through the hall, into the living room, and through the double doors, straight into the garden and heading for the pool.

“Peterson,” Mick growled through clenched teeth. “This is not funny. If you value your life, you will—”

“It’s for your own good, Mick, my man. You’ve lost your joie de vivre.” Peterson was red-faced and roaring with laughter. “Off with his clothes!” At first Mick attempted to free himself, but the drunken, grinning lunatics were crowding in close, clutching at him, pinning him, ripping at his shirt, his pants. Mick made an executive decision. It wasn’t worth injuring anybody and enduring a lawsuit. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peterson proudly overseeing. Waving that damned sunflower as if he were conducting a symphony at Carnegie Hall. “Into the pool! Into the pool! It’s time for a celebratory swim!” Peterson sang.

“Peterson. Don’t even—” Mick was hoisted in the air. “For Chrissake—the water in the pool looks like a fucking swamp—”

“Aaaand . . . a one . . . two . . . three!” Mick felt the hands release their grasp on his ankles and wrists. As he soared through the air, he sucked in oxygen and braced himself for the smack when his body made contact with the surface of the sludgy green-tinged water. Down, down he sank. Then, once submerged, it was almost peaceful. The water muted the noise above him. He could see more bodies hit the water. Lack of apparel seemed to be the common theme. For a moment, he wished he had gills so he could stay in the relative quiet, swim around on the bottom of the pool until everyone went home.