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MidReal Story
The Forever Series
Scenario:Dad lost bet football to brothers funny nude
Forfeit guys bet fart face forfeit
Create my version of this story
Ethan
He is a college football player and a selfproclaimed ladies' man. He is confident, playful, and carefree. Ethan frequently hosts and participates in parties, often making bets with his friends. He struggles with responsibility, especially when it comes to taking care of his younger sister, Emily. Despite his carefree attitude, Ethan is deeply protective of his family and would do anything to keep them safe.
Kason
He is Ethan's older brother who attends college in Arizona. He is responsible, serious, and protective. Kason often finds himself at odds with Ethan due to their differing attitudes towards life and partying. He returns home from college for his father's birthday, where he confronts Ethan about his reckless behavior and the need to take care of Emily when their father is away.
Rickey
He is another close friend of Ethan known for being fartfaced. He is goofy, friendly, and impulsive. Like Ryder, Rickey often gets caught up in the group's antics and finds himself making light of embarrassing situations with his flatulence. Despite the chaos that often surrounds him, Rickey remains a core part of the group's dynamic.
I laughed.
"Fuck you, dude. That’s not fair. You did it again … and I fucking lost again."
Ryder grinned.
"I told you I wasn’t blind in that eye."
I shook my head.
"No, you didn’t. All week long you’ve been saying you were blind in your left eye. I should’ve known better than to trust your ass."
We were standing in my living room, arguing over a football game we’d played earlier against my brothers’ team.
Every weekend during the college football season, we had a game where the winner got to make the loser do whatever they wanted.
My brothers were away at college in Arizona, so they weren’t here this weekend.
I was happy to be home instead of being in New Brunswick where I was supposed to be.
I’d told my dad I was staying with Kason, but really I was living with my friends and at home.
I didn’t give a shit what my parents thought.
I walked to the center of the living room, grumbling under my breath as I started unbuttoning my shirt.
Ryder and Rickey were already sitting on the couch, phones in hand and ready to record my humiliation.
The terms of the bet were simple: loser strips naked and lets the winners draw whatever they want on their back with markers.
I heard the cap pop off a Sharpie and turned to see Ryder walking toward me.
He was smirking, and I knew that this was going to be bad.
"Turn around," he said, waving the marker in front of my face.
I sighed and turned around, feeling the cold tip of the marker touch my spine.
I flinched at the contact, and Rickey laughed from behind me.
Ryder started drawing something on my back, and I could hear Rickey’s laughter getting louder with each passing second.
I gripped the back of a chair tightly, trying not to move or react to what they were doing. I could feel them moving around me, drawing what felt like crude stick figures across my shoulders.
It was uncomfortable and embarrassing, but I tried to keep my cool.
Just as they finished up, I heard Ryder let out a loud fart right next to my ear.
That was it; I couldn’t take it anymore.
"Seriously, Ryder?" I snapped, turning to face him.
"Hey, a bet's a bet," he shrugged, trying to hold back his laughter.
Rickey grinned and added, "But maybe we should tell him about the surprise we left for his brothers."
I heard footsteps coming from the hallway and froze, my shirt half unbuttoned.
The front door creaked open, and I saw my dad’s silhouette in the doorway.
He was home early from his business trip.
I scrambled to cover myself with the nearest throw pillow, but it was too late.
Ryder and Rickey burst into laughter, unable to contain themselves any longer.
My dad stood there, briefcase still in hand, mouth agape as he took in the scene before him: his naked son covered in marker drawings, and two friends doubled over in hysterics.
The pillow slipped, revealing more of the childish drawings that adorned my back.
"What's going on here?" my dad demanded, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Ryder quickly chimed in, "Just a little friendly wager, Mr. Thompson, nothing to worry about."
Rickey added with a mischievous grin, "And we might've left a little surprise for the twins when they get back."
Dad shakes his head at first, but then a mischievous grin spreads across his face.
"You know what? If you boys are going to act like children, I might as well join in."
He grabs a marker from Ryder and approaches me while I'm still clutching the pillow.
I try to back away, but Rickey and Ryder block my escape.
Dad starts drawing what feels like a mustache on my lower back, adding to the existing artwork.
When he finishes, he steps back and lets out a deliberate fart, making Ryder and Rickey howl with laughter.
Still holding the pillow against my front, I finally crack a smile.
Dad adds a few more flourishes to his masterpiece, and I can't help but join in the laughter.
The tension is broken, and we're all joking around like nothing ever happened.
Ryder points out Dad's artistic skills, particularly the curly mustache near my tailbone.
Rickey demonstrates how it would look if he had a mustache there, making exaggerated facial expressions.
Just then, Dad mentions that Mom will be back soon from her yoga class.
I drop the pillow and sprint toward the bathroom, leaving a trail of laughter behind me.
After my hasty retreat to the bathroom, I hear Dad challenge Ryder and Rickey to a bet over who can draw the best marker mustache.
I'm still buttoning up my shirt when I hear him declare, "I'll be the canvas."
I peek out of the bathroom just in time to see Dad s####g down, exposing his b#e b##m.
Ryder and Rickey approach him cautiously, markers in hand.
Dad bends over the coffee table, wiggling his b##d as he taunts them to make it "extra fancy."
Ryder pretends to be an art critic, examining Dad's p####r with exaggerated seriousness.
I emerge from the bathroom, my shirt still half-buttoned, just in time to see Ryder and Rickey drawing m####s on Dad's bare b#m.
Dad laughs, urging them to make it "extra fancy."
Ryder critiques their work with mock seriousness, while Rickey adds exaggerated swirls.
I stand there, torn between joining in the laughter and feeling the weight of our family's usual disapproval.
As Mom's car pulls into the driveway, Dad quickly pulls up his pants, smudging the marker.
I watch as Dad, still laughing, proposes a new bet with Ryder and Rickey.
"Alright, boys, let's play a game of darts. Loser has to walk around the house with their bare bum showing off the mustache."
I watch as Dad, still laughing, agrees to forfeit the dart game.
He pulls down his pants, revealing the smeared marker mustaches on his bottom.
He parades around the living room, with Ryder and Rickey cheering him on.
I can't help but join in the laughter.
As Dad struts past the window, Mom walks in, her yoga mat in hand.
She stops, eyes wide, taking in the scene.
Dad pauses mid-stride, then grins at her.
"Welcome home, honey," he says, unfazed.