“You’ve got a world of porn at your fingertips, dude,” Dog said. “No need to jerk it alone.”
Harpy grinned. “Why should Edwards watch porn? He made most of those videos.”
“Fuck you,” Edwards said. “Only some of them.”
Back in my room, I FaceTimed Nix. After we jerked off, we talked about the quick trip I’d be making to New York next weekend. It would be our last chance to spend time together before the playoffs started.
Too soon, it was time to get ready for the meeting. I pulled on a shirt and opened my laptop, keeping my phone close. Nix and I stayed connected so we could send dumb texts to stay awake.
Marissa called the meeting to order and thanked the ten of us who’d been ambassadors for our “distinguished service.”
“Paquette and Rossi deserve special recognition,” she said. “They’re the only ones who went through a shipping to get the job done.”
NIX: Fuck her. She was the shipping ringleader.
I rolled my eyes at my phone camera and typed a reply.
PACKY: At least she thanked us for letting her fuck us over.
NIX: The shipping was worth it since it got us together.
PACKY: 100%.
Marissa went on for a few minutes about how wonderful we’d all been to work with. Nix and I moved on to comically filthy texts when she wrapped up.
“Now for a special surprise,” she said. “Commissioner Gasser wants to talk to you. He’s in Florida, so give me a minute to patch him in.”
I couldn’t resist texting Nix.
PACKY: Fantastic. Right up there with being voluntold to shovel manure at my uncle’s barn.
NIX: For me, right up there with being voluntold to help you.
Gasser’s face appeared on the screen, with his customary scowl. The ocean was in the background, and his Hawaiian shirt looked like it had been decorated by someone with stomach flu.
He twisted his lips into a rictus of a smile. “Good afternoon, men. I’m down here with the Board of Directors, but I insisted on taking time out to thank you for what you’ve done for the league.”
Someone yelled in the background. Gasser’s scowl returned as he checked his watch.
“I have a meeting with the Executive Committee in five minutes, so I’ll make this short. Because of your outstandingwork, CSN has agreed to broadcast the playoffs and continue the contract next fall. This is a victory for all of us, but we owe it to… um… you.”
He picked up a sheet of paper. “CSN’s latest metrics are in. I’m pleased to report measurable improvement across all targeted growth areas. Here are a few specifics so you can pat yourselves on the back: ages 12-24, engagement is up 11.4 percent; female viewership has increased by 8.2 percent since the start of the campaign. Also, our outreach to the LGBTQ+ community has resulted in a 17.2 percent increase in positive brand sentiment, and multicultural engagement is up 9.6 percent.”
Setting the paper aside, he glanced at his watch again. “You all did great work, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the debt we all owe Packo.” He smirked, and the other bastards… er, ambassadors in the meeting laughed. Thankfully, most of them were on mute, so I only had to look at their shaking shoulders.
“Thank you, Rossi and Paquette. You took the heat off your fellow ambassadors.” He paused. “To all of you, Marissa will be in touch about a banquet for you in early September. I look forward to providing the best steak dinner in New York and shaking all your hands then.”
One more look at his watch, and he said, “The Executive Committee is waiting, so I’ve got to run. Good work, men.”
He disappeared, and Marissa didn’t come back. After signing out of the video conference, I unmuted my phone.
“Not too bad, I guess,” Nix said.
“No. At least he thanked us.”
Nix laughed. “Wonder what he’d say if he knew what we were up to now?”
“No idea, and don’t give a fuck.” I sighed. “Big game tonight, so I should try to nap.”
