10...

He was beat. Frank had been up for at least thirty-six hours and was starting to feel overheated, starting to feel like his wiring was sparking. There was this odd sort of whine in his ears and he really couldn’t remember what he had been doing up for so long.
“Jesus Christ,” he said to himself. “Go to sleep then!”
He needed sleep but the problem was he knew that he wouldn’t get to sleep for some time, he was too wound up.
He began emptying his pockets, slamming the items down on the bedroom desk, as if it were his wallet’s fault that he wouldn’t drop off to sleep without a little work, as if his keys had kept him up for a day and a half. He brushed the breast pocket of his shirt not expecting to find anything. He felt resistance and suddenly remembering, gingerly withdrew the business card of the Wank guy with two fingers. As he tossed it onto the desk he saw the name Tad Winslow flutter through the air.
Frank undressed quickly and threw himself onto his bed. As always when he knew he couldn’t sleep, his old roommate Rafael came to mind. Rafael had left him with advice that he had never forgotten.
“Whenever you cannot sleep,” Rafael had said with a slightly theatrical Latin accent. “You need to rub one out. And then, this is the important part, if you don’t fall asleep immediately, rub one out a couple minutes later. You’ll pass right out.”
How can you argue with the wisdom of Rafael?
Frank began to run through the back catalogue of masturbation fantasies he had in his head. Each one of them was so detailed with a back story that he had to go through the reasons why he was where he was, and how he was going to run into the people there. Frank needed immediate help.
He suddenly smiled a slightly mischievous smile.
“Ah yes,” he said. “The Wank issue.”