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Summary
“Stan, Stan— listen. It was just fucking... there!” He hissed through the phone, his eyes glued to his notes as he nearly rewrote the scribbled mess into a separate notebook. “I think he’s taunting me with it.”
“What do you mean it was just there?” Stan asked absentmindedly.
“Like—!” Eddie huffed out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head and looking up at the fridge. “I think the jokes are true.” Stan was silent on the other line, waiting for Eddie to elaborate. “I think Richie’s dick might be huge.”
