"I was thinking the loser could become the winner's ... the winner's ... um, male organ of love," answered Bryce. Cal had just taken a sip of cola, which immediately spewed out of his mouth and nose all over Bryce's coffee table and living room carpet. Bryce noticed and insisted, "I hope you're planning on cleaning that up. This is my apartment, you know?"
Cal rubbed his sticky, smeared face with his shirt sleeve, coughed a few times, and blurted out, "The FUCK?! What the shithole, Bryce? You want me to become you're fuckin' COCK?"
"Only if you can't ask out a girl. Or a guy. Whatever floats you boat, I guess. And don't forget, I could easily end up as yours. If you can finally stop talking about sexy butts who got away and actually make your move for once. But I'm betting you can't."
"Oh, I can! Don't think I can't! But damn. A penis?"
"Cal, come on, you haven't even got to first base in, well, I can't even say how long. But think about it, man. Even if you lose, you won't be stuck living with your parents any more. And you'll get all the sex I get. But in the very unlikely event you can win, then maybe you will actually have a date for tonight. And then I guess I won't have to keep working for that idiot boss of mine, haha."
Cal just sat there fuming. Staring at Bryce with murderous rage. And then he got up, stormed across the apartment, and threw open the door. "Come on," he said, and then took off down the hallway. Bryce laughed and quickly followed suit. "Hey, what about my carpet?" said Bryce on the way out the door.
"Fuck the carpet! I can admit I have a crush on somebody. I'll prove it! And ain't neither of us gonna turn into a penis. That's sick. And ridiculous," Cal bellowed. Miss Madelin, the old lady from apartment 225, just stepping out of the elevator just in time to hear about this outburst, and she nearly dropped the groceries she was carrying. But even if she'd wanted to ask to clarification, the two young men were gone almost immediately, speed-walking out of the building and toward the town park.