Ominous textual intercourse

Later that day, Todd is out running a few errands. He's standing in line at the bank when he gets a text from an unknown number:

"Have you seen my pills?"

Failing to make the connection, Todd replies:

"Who is this?"

"Jason. My pills are gone. Seen em?"

Todd's blood runs cold, and he reaches out to steady himself--Only to grasp at a rope partition, nearly knocking it (and himself) over. Cursing silently and avoiding the judgemental gazes of the people around him, he types out another reply:

"I don't think so. What kind of pills?"

"Painkillers. My condition makes my blood pressure go all screwy... Takes a lot to fill an erection like that, y'know? Gives me headaches sometimes."

That's one hell of a humblebrag... And a likely story, Todd thinks, before composing another message to throw Jason off the scent:

"What do they look like? Got a pic?"

"They're GONE, dummy."

Todd scowls, and starts thinking of a comeback--But then Jason does send a picture.

The camera is aimed down at the bathroom counter, toiletry bag open and emptied. Various items are strewn about--Not including the pill bottle that Todd trashed, of course. But the more interesting content is tucked away in the edges of the photo.

At the bottom, Jason's fat, semi-erect cockhead is barely visible. The boy isn't wearing any pants, and his oozing tip is sticking out just far enough to make it into the foreground. Todd flinches as he sees it, looking elsewhere--

--Only to spot something even worse at the top of the picture. The bottom half of the bathroom mirror is in-frame, and therefore so is the reflection of the toilet. A petite-yet-hourglass-shaped woman--Brook, obviously, even though her face isn't visible--Is sitting there with her legs spread. She's slumped against the back of the toilet, arms limp at her sides, legs spread... And buck-naked, except for a towel that's been thrown across her lap.

Above and below that conveniently-censoring strip of fabric, her skin is coated with a thick layer of gooey jizz. Some is cascading down her navel, soiling the towel on its way down... But much, much more of it is coming out the bottom. There's a river oozing down each of her legs, the toilet is covered in pearly blobs, and a pool is forming on the tile between her feet.

As Todd stares slack-jawed at the photo, another text arrives:

"See? That's what 'no pills' looks like. Have you seen my painkillers or not?"

Todd types his next message quickly, afraid that someone will see the pic over his shoulder.

"no i havent"

"Okay. I'll go ask your mom."

Shit. Shitshitshit. Before Todd can think of a response, any response that might dissuade Jason from seeking out Patricia, he finds himself at the front of the line.

"Sir? Can I help you?

"I..." Stuffing his phone in his pocket, Jason nods. "Y-yeah. Thanks."

"...What can I help you with, sir?"

Ten minutes later, Todd walks out of the bank. He's still blushing from the awkward interaction with the teller... Not to mention the image of Brook that's burned into his retinas.

To make matters worse, his phone pings again:

"pick up acetaminophen while youre out"

Todd is about to reply with just a "yeah fine," but he can't resist digging deeper:

"Mom couldn't find yours?"

"she has her hands full atm"

Before that can even sink in, his phone pings again:

"ill get to the bottom of that later"

And again:

"trust me"