Bottle Message: Update

Well, Perfect Man didn't wait for Jeep Boy to find the note. He just told him he should go check the bottom left desk drawer.

At first Jeep Boy attempted the "Best Defense Is A Good Offense" strategy and assumed an air of indignation: his personal space had been violated, and this would not stand! He tried to rope poor old Aunt Pillowhead into his ill-fated deflection by saying to her, "I don't think you guys have the right to go through my stuff. That's messed up."

Aunt Pillowhead (who does indeed occasionally "rock;" thank you, Jill!) nipped that one right in the bud. "First of all, my friend," she said, holding up one finger to underscore the primary nature of the point, "I had nothing to do with this one. And secondly," (second finger up now--so 'no nonsense!') "If the point you're trying to make is about violated trust, I think your dad's got you on that one. So back up a little bit, because this isn't going anywhere good." Then she disappeared, up into her room with the New York Times and her new pair of $17 drugstore glasses that make everything so magically, wonderfully legible.

And privately (much to Hammerhead's chagrin, because he was so very anxious to be a part of the whole thing) Perfect Man told Jeep Boy that he and his friends were wrong to bring illegally purchased alcohol into this house and to consume it, it was wrong of him to hide and lie about what they were doing, and incidents like this cause him great worry, and cause him to feel less capable of trusting him to make good decisions in general. But his bottom line was this: Jeep Boy must promise that he will never, ever, ever get behind the wheel if he has had anything to drink, or get into any car driven by anyone else who has had anything do drink. If he is ever in any situation like this, he has to know that he can call either one of us anytime, from anywhere, and we will come and get him, no questions asked, no repercussions suffered.

And that was that.