Fine, you won't go.

"Gah, what's your thing with this stupid diaper?" you ask, storming off. "I didn't even want to go to that dumb party anyway."

"Don't storm away from me!" your mom yells after you, but you ignore her.

You lock you door, blare your music, and text Mark that you won't be able to come.

"What? Why?" He texts back.

You quickly make up an excuse, claiming you're feeling sick.

As dinnertime approaches, you hear a knock on the door. "Honey, it's me. Ready for dinner?" You angrily unlock your door, and she passes you a diaper, bib and pacifier.

"What? I thought I didn't have to put it on until after dinner?"

"Well, that was before you yelled at me earlier," she retorts. "Put them on, or you'll get more punishment.

Sighing, you put on the diaper and bib, and hang the pacifier around your neck. As you walk downstairs, you happen to catch a glance of yourself in the mirror. Oh my god, you look like some little baby. What the fuck has your mom gotten you into?

Your mom has to rush out to the office for whatever reason, leaving you sitting at the table in a diaper and bib all alone. This wouldn't have been so bad but then you hear a knock at the door.

When you don't answer, you here Mark's voice saying "Open up, John! I know you're in there! Oh whatever, I'll use that spare key you gave me."

Oh shit. What the FUCK do you do?