I know you said you didn't want anything strong, but I'm sure you're aware by now that I slipped you something. It would be hard not to notice, with the way you've been sprawled on the floor, too dizzy to make yourself get up, too light-headed to respond to anything I'm saying with anything except the occasional groan.

And, like, I get it. I get why you didn't want it, why you told me no... but, like, give me a break, alright?

I just wanted you to loosen up a little, have some fun. Stop being so tightly wound and uptight all the time. Let your hair down and all that.

Of course, when the first pill I slipped you didn't seem to do much, I had to move onto the stronger stuff. You can hardly blame me for that, or for the fact you've been laying on the floor in here for the past twenty minutes. It was you who chose to drag yourself into the last empty room in the house.

Fair enough. You've never really liked parties.

But... you have to know that with parties, the most empty rooms are the ones where all the fucking happens.

Of course, everyone pretends that they're not getting down and dirty in someone else's house, because it's so unbearably rude to the host, but like... it happens. It happens a whole lot. Do you know how many people I've kicked out this room with their clothes ruffled and their dicks swinging free? In the dozens, at least. God, most of the time I hate being the host.

Hey, uh... I'm going to try lift you up onto the bed, alright? You look kind of cramped down there. Not like you'd ever much complain about it, of course, but it's just doing you a common courtesy, yeah?

...You're surprising difficult to manoeuvre. Guess it's because you're so slack.

Huh, you lying there... you look the spitting image of one of those toys you used to bring round to mine when we were younger. Yeah—one of those action figures, with the articulated limbs and all. We used to smash them together like they were in some kind of battle! Yeah, I remember that.

You know, I never told you this, but I guess I might as well tell you now. Whenever you got up to like, I dunno, go to the bathroom or get a glass of water something, I'd keep smashing those dolls together. Not in the way you wanted them to be smashed together, mind. If I'd ever told you back then you would've shouted at me for ruining the game.

Or, you know what... you remind me more of one of those wooden dolls—the ones for pose references? The ones we used in college, that boring art school that I dropped out of half a term in and you continued with, diligently, ignoring almost everything else, including me, until you got that ridiculous degree?

Yeah, those ones.

I bought a couple of those for those few weeks I was there. I lost the first one, dunno where. The second one, I unscrewed all the joints, took out the coiled wires and stretched them out 'til they were straight. I took all of the wooden parts of the limbs and drew all over them with those bloody oil pastels that you loved using so much.

That's where those oil pastels went, sorry. I was lying when I said Mike took them. Can you blame me, though? He was trying to get into your pants from the very first day, and you were slowly bending to his demands. I had to get rid of him somehow. If it was breaking your trust in him, so be it.

Anyway. After I drew all over the wooden pieces, I tried to remake the doll, then realised I'd fucked up the limb articulation by stretching out the coils. Should've realised that sooner, to be honest. I'd properly ruined that doll. Pretty much only salvageable for parts, but looking at the individual pieces just made me want to cry.

So I burnt all the wooden bits and chucked the metal away.

I'm not telling you all this for like... the fun of it, alright? I'm not telling you this to make you angry, or make you hate me.

I don't want you to hate me at all. Which is why I'm telling you this, in hopes that you'll understand.

Cus, like... I don't want to hurt you, alright? I want us to have a good time. Actually, I want us—you, especially, actually—to have the absolute best time. Give you the proper party-shag experience you never had while at art school.

I hope you know that. I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to tear you apart like those pose figurines, but I'll need some help with it. Those pills I slipped you handled most of it, of course, but I'd quite honestly thought they'd knock you fully unconscious for this first part, although I'm positive I gave you the correct dosage. I know your body rather well, you see.

So... yeah. I'm going to need you to help with this yourself. Because, well, there are still people downstairs, and I don't want them barging in on this. This is between you and me, nothing else, okay? Just me and my sweet little puppet doll.