Warning: What you are about to read contains unpleasant graphic material. This column is not intended for men with weak stomachs.

I received a phone call from my friend Rhoda. "What are you doing?"

"Grocery shopping. What's up?"

"I need you to come to my house right now."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. Hurry."

When I arrived at Rhoda's house, I found her minivan parked askew in the driveway. ...

( Back to Article )