I know you boys didn’t do anything wrong — you’re good kids — but that Lochte kid… I just don’t trust him. He always seems to be up to something. I just don’t want you hanging out with him anymore. OK?
He dyed his hair that crazy color. (White? On a boy? I don’t think so.) He’s always fighting with the Phelps boy. I just don’t like the way he talks to me. I know he’s a little bit older and has been to an Olympics or two, but that doesn’t mean he’s setting the right example. I think he drinks too.
Now, I heard from Mrs. Williams at the post office that you all trashed that gas station in Rio and pissed all over the place, but I know Lochte must have told you to do it. My good boys wouldn’t do that. You’re 20-something white males with minor celebrity status; there’s no way you could do anything wrong.
Now go take out the trash and wash up for dinner. We won’t speak of him again in this house.