Jason makes his room into a home

William Greene whistles to himself as he turns the corner onto his street. He's not much of a singer, but he enjoys a good whistle-along with his Classic Rock playlist as he drives home from a long day at--

"What the hell?"

As William tries to pull into his driveway, he finds it blocked. A white van is parked in the driveway, its back door flung open to reveal several large boxes and pieces of furniture. As the dumbfounded businessman watches, a man and woman in their twenties unload a TV.

Parking by the curb, William jumps out of his car and hustles over to them.

"What're you doing? I didn't order any of this," he says, slightly out of breath.

"Uh, Mr. Roberts placed the order," the man replies, placing the giant flatscreen on the porch. "He said he okay'd it with your wife."

"I... Huh."

Moving past the couple, William steps inside the house... And comes face-to-face with his wife's huge, legging-clad ass.

Patricia is kneeling under the table, a washing tub at her side. Every few seconds, she leans back and squeezes out a sponge into the plastic bin. The resulting cascade of white goop slowly slops down, before she disappears under the table to gather up another wad.

"Um... Patty?"

"Oh!" She nearly wacks her head on the table as she straightens up, shoving the bin behind her back. "Hi, honey!"

"What's with all the furniture? They're unloading a freakin' rec room out--Hey, uh... You've got something on your chin. And your top."

"Oops, uh..." Smiling awkwardly, she swipes a finger along her cleavage, then scoops the dripping globs into her mouth. "...Mph... Thanks."

"...Wasn't that just on the floor? What is it, anyway?"

"I don't--Oh, look! Hi, Todd!"

William turns to see his eldest child coming down the stairs, a frown on his face.

"Alan's stuff is taking up, like, half my bedroom," Todd pouts. "Can I put some more in yours?"

"Sure, honey," Patricia replies, licking her lips clean as her son stomps back upstairs.

"Huh? So, wait..." William crosses his arms sternly. "We're letting Jason remodel Alan's bedroom? And filling our rooms with junk?"

"Of course! He's our guest... It's just for a little while, dear."

"Hmm, well I don't... I..." William takes a deep breath, wrinkles his nose, then sighs. "...Fair enough, I guess."

Then the furniture-movers tromp by, boxes in hand: the man with a bean bag chair, and the woman with a brand-new game console. The man does a double-take as he sees (and smells) the ivory-goop-filled tub sitting on the floor, then looks to the faces of everyone else in the room. Seeing no surprise on their faces, he shrugs and follows his partner upstairs.

"I should head up to the study and get some work done," William says, shaking his head as if dazed before smiling at his wife. "Are your knees okay down there, hon?"

"Mmhm," Patricia replies, her hand rubbing along the side of the washing tub, feeling the warmth of its contents through the plastic. "They're... Fine, actually. I've been feeling... I dunno... More youthful, lately? Maybe it's the new face around the house--Like another son to keep me on my toes," she giggles.

"Uh, yeah, sure. See you at dinner!"

Just as William is about to step into his home office, another door opens as well. The man from the furniture store comes stumbling out of Alan's bedroom, his face white as a sheet.

"Um, hey... You alright, buddy?"

William watches as the other man takes a step, swallows hard, then nods. "S-sure. Fine..."

Then there's a high-pitched squeal from the bedroom behind him, and a thud as someone flops hard onto the bed. Then more squeals, the sound of a zipper...

The man reaches behind him, closes the door, then nods again. "...Just fine..."

Before William can reply, the employee bustles down the stairs and out of the house... Leaving his partner behind.