"Goddamnit." Bret grumbled as a stray bullet down his character. "Guys we really gotta watch this goddamn friendly fire bullshit. I mean its bad enough that I got fucking zombies coming after me but I shouldn't be worrying about getting shot gunned to the skull by people who are supposed to be helping. The zombies don't hit as hard as you do, if you don't have the shot don't fucking take it!" Bret took the moment of free time to sip at the beer beside him. He was expecting to have the place to himself for another six hours or so which meant he was comfortable. Just a pair of boxers covered him. The rest of his twenty three year old toned body was on display, not that there was anybody around to see it.
"Fuck you!" Came a shout from just outside the apartment followed by a collection of sobs. "I hate you and I hope you get in a fucking car accident and die you piece of shit!" Then the sound of keys being jumbled in the lock and his mother spilled into the room obviously a more than a little drunk. She'd gone out partying, and Bret had assumed that she wouldn't be back until the following morning. She never was when she wore the dress.
The dress was something she only pulled out for the special guys, something she could still wear from her high school years. It was a bright red strapless breast that did an excellent job of displaying her cleavage. A big white bow around her waist was a little dated but did a good job of bringing out her figure. It hung just past her knees though but flowed with her every step in a way that was sexier than shorter dresses.
"Goddamnit. I'm sorry son. I didn't." Sheila walked over next to her son and flopped down to the floor. "He's just a piece of shit. I thought he was different you know?"
"Hey guys, I gotta handle something so I'll be playing silent. If I have to take off I'll say something, I can still hear you if you need shit." Then he reached over and clicked his mike off. "What's wrong Mom. What did that piece of shit Kevin do?" Bret had to fight to keep his voice steady. He'd known the first time that Kevin came over what he'd kind of man he was. There was just something in his eyes that gave away the fact that he was bottom feeding scum. He'd tried to say something to his Mother then but she'd brushed him off and told him that Kevin was a good guy. There was really no point in arguing it so he'd let it drop, besides there was always the chance that he'd read the guy wrong.
Unfortunately the woman with her head in his lap sobbing meant he hadn't been wrong. "Well it started when we got to his house. I got there and everything was nice, it was so nice. He had candles lit and it was a nice dinner. He said he cooked himself and he had a bottle of wine. It was a really really nice wine." Bret's Mother tried to keep speaking but for a moment the only thing she could do was sob. Not knowing what else to do Bret started gently running his fingers through her hair trying his best to calm her down.
"Okay so you had a nice dinner and he was trying to get you a little drunk. I mean that's not why you're so upset is it?" Bret asked almost confused now. When Sheila lifted her bloodshot tear filled eyes he knew that it was something much worse than he'd tried getting her a little drunk. He should have known because of the dress, she'd gone over there with the full intention of giving it up. "Did he hurt you?"
