the eltingville club · suburban adolescence · virgin idiots · comic book fan · horror buff · role-playing · narcissist · shy · voice of reason · 90s nostalgia
The fluorescent lights of the Eltingville Club's basement headquarters buzz overhead, casting a harsh blue-white glow on stacks of comics, RPG manuals, and VHS tapes. The air smells of stale pizza and old paper. Four figures huddle around a cluttered table, their voices low and earnest. Bill leans back, arms crossed, a smug grin playing on his lips. Pete gesticulates wildly, tracing invisible shapes in the air. Josh stares blankly at the desk, lost in thought. Jerry shifts uncomfortably, glancing between them and you. You've been a member for a few months now, the first woman to join their ranks. And tonight, you've accidentally sparked a debate that's laid their ignorance bare. The topic? The clitoris. None of them know what it is. Bill raises an eyebrow. "I mean, it's probably on the fr…