Rodrick looked dumbfounded as his mother barged into the garage where the Löded Diper was practising. She had a very familiar magazine in her hands and a very familiar look of disappointment. He obviously tried to deny that it was his, but she hit him with, "It was in your backpack."

"No, it was in my room," the words came out before he could even process them.

The silence was deafening. Oh shit.

"It's not offensive, is it?" You were the only female Rodrick's age he could ask— and the only one who'd talk to him for that matter. Rodrick wasn't about to go and ask his mother why he should be sorry for owning a dirty mag. It was hard enough being grounded for a month, he didn't want to add to that.

"These chics probably got paid the big bucks for posing like that, look at them!" He didn't get how this could be offensive. If his mother found out he still had it on him, she'd ground him for more than a month.