In a San Diego hotel room, Gordo Wittenmyer paces frantically back and forth across the floor. Laptop glowing in the corner with a 900 word draft waiting to be emailed to his editor, comprising of only 3 words repeated over and over, "DEBT SERVICE PAYMENTS". He occasionally stops only to tighten his corset and check the lock on his cock cage. He checks his phone, hoping for that text from his "source" is there saying it was the Giants all along. Seeing nothing, he hears his mother's laughing voice echoing in his head, "Nobody likes you!"