Tom groaned, and Pamela heard him. She turned to glare at him, then literally screamed, "What the hell is this?!"
A particularly raunchy picture of Bliss was thrust into Tom's hand. He looked at it and opened his mouth, but could not think of anything to say.
"This is disgusting, Tom!" Pamela continued, visibly distraught, "Why would you draw something like this? I don't even want to know why.."
"Er... it's for conventions," Tom hesitantly replied.
"Conventions?"
"Er, yeah.. I draw art like this to sell at conventions. It sells really well."
"This is not art!!" Pamela screeched. "This is just sick. You're sick."
Tom wanted to reply, but couldn't think of anything he could say.
After what seemed like forever, Pamela said, "Come along Kelly, we're leaving. Goodbye Tom."
Tom sank into his chair and let them go. He began to sob. He looked at the picture of Bliss in his hands.
