Amanda walks into Gary's bachelor party

"Fuck, I'm getting married," Gary said. The whiskey rested in the shot-glass in front him at the back table of motel room.

"Fuck yeah you are," Sam answered. "You're getting fucking married to Ginny, the purest, the most perfect, the most Christian girl in the world. It'll be sex once a month for you for the rest of your life, missionary style."

"Fuck," Gary said. The whiskey kept staring at him.

"That's why you're going to fuck shit three ways out of the escort we hired, buddy."

"Oh," Gary downed the shot. Sam poured him two more. "Isn't that cheating?"

"It ain't cheating if the whore's passed out, buddy. That's what the chloroform's for." Sam held up the bottle in his other first. "And, believe me, I'm going to make sure you fuck her twice for every buck the guys pitched in."

Amanda stumbled into the backdoor next to them just as Gary downed two more shots of liquid courage. Sam stood up and pressed the rag of chloroform to her nose before the luckless girl could speak a word. She went limp, and the man let her ill-used body fall with a meaty thump on the motel carpet.

"She looks used," Gary said, staggering to his feet. "You cheaped out, asshole."

Sam laughed and put his heel on Amanda's tits, right over the bottle cap the bums had pinched to her nipples. "The dumb cunt must have double booked herself for the night," he said, grinding his bootheel into Amanda's abused nipples and pulling a ribbed French tickler condom from his pocket. "I promise you this, we're going to get the pound of flesh we paid for this piece of prime 18-year-old escort pussy."

"Save some for me, asshole," Gary popped a blue pill, and washed it down with more whiskey.