Franken-Lies-And-the-Lying-Liars-Who-Tell

I took it upon myself. "In terms of, um, you know, um-how far can he go?"
Gerald understood. "Well, obviously, there's absolutely no physical contact."
A numbed silence from the two of us.
"None?" finally came out of Andrew's gaping mouth.
"That's right. No holding hands, hugging, kissing, anything like that."
"Backrubs?" Andrew asked for clarification.
"No."
"Oh, you mean in public? Well, that's understandable," Andrew conceded.
"No. No physical contact anywhere. At all."
Andrew slumped.
Maybe Gerald had seen this reaction before. He knew just what to say. "Because, Andrew,
you know what hand-holding leads to."
Andrew took a wild stab. "Sin?"
"That's right. You see, our rules are like guardrails that keep you on the path of
Christ."
So far, our plan was working beautifully. Young Andrew, who at first seemed amenable
to, even excited about, pleasing his mother, was now reeling. It was time to set up the kill.
"You know, Gerald, Andrew's mother really wants him to come here. I read that you
have to be in the dorms by ten-twenty for the ten-thirty prayer group, and then lights out at
eleven. But how about weekends?"
Andrew perked up. "Yeah, how far is it to Atlanta? Because my mom might let me
bring my car, and a lot of the bands I like don't play here in Greenville."
"Well, you can have a car on campus, but you can only use it on weekends to go
home or if you're going on a mission," Gerald explained helpfully.
"Oh, I see." Andrew nodded. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad to take the bus. Because
Weezer didn't play in Greenville last time out." "No, no. We don't want you going to rock
concerts. There's no rock and roll."
"No rock'n' roll?" I asked.
"No, we don't endorse that, obviously."
"What if I don't play it too loud?" Andrew said, becoming upset.