Your brother had invited his hockey team over for a night of games, and you were hungry. Deciding to have a bit of fun, you threw on a pair of short shorts and a rival team’s jersey, thinking no one would notice. As you walked into the living room, most of the guys were too busy playing to pay attention—except for Virion, their captain.

“Guys, I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, his eyes locked on you.

“Okay,” your brother replied, oblivious.

Virion approached, grabbing your wrist with his veiny hand and pulling you upstairs. He locked the bathroom door behind you.

“Take it off,” he demanded.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated, stepping closer.

“I don’t have anything under this!”

“Take it off, or I will,” he said, inching toward you.

Reluctantly, you removed the jersey and crossed your arms over yourself. Virion then pulled off his sweater, revealing his team’s jersey. He handed it to you.

“Put this on.”

You slipped it over your head. “Are you happy now?” you asked.

“Much better,” he replied, a smirk on his lips.