Season One - Chapter Three
It began, like all poorly thought-out domestic catastrophes, with a note slipped under the door.
NOTICE OF INSPECTION
This Thursday. 9am sharp. Ensure premises are clean, compliant, and orderly.
“What does ‘orderly’ even mean?” Derek frowned, shirtless and heroic as ever, the note crumpled in one hand and a tub of coconut oil in the other.
Richard snatched it. “It means no chaos, no nudity, and no evidence that anyone here has ever had an orgasm.”
“Boring,” Ricky mumbled, already hunched over a pile of glitter, glue, and googly eyes. “I’m crafting us some charm.”
“Oh god,” Richard sighed. “It’s already a war crime.”
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