As a prelude to my upcoming Pornographic Midnight Snack cinema critique series, I offer this episode of Tales from the PRON Store that deals with the topic of Hypocrisy.
A man walks into the store today and announces to me (a captive audience of ONE, by the way) that places like this (meaning the PRON store) make him sick.
"Why?" I ask him, feigning interest.
He says, "Because people who are addicted to PRON make me sick." Without skipping a beat, he then asks me if he can use the restroom.
"Are you sure it's clean enough?" I said with a grin meant to imply sarcasm. He grinned back and started doing the Pee-Pee dance, indicating it was an emergency. I gave him the key, stating that I shouldn't because our restroom is for paying customers, only. He assured me that he would buy something, and I assured him he better damn well buy something.
After tinkling, he starts lecturing again about how he usually stays away from places that sell PRON because he can get addicted to it. This is when I asked the Rev if he was done preaching and would buy something. (Obviously, I have no sympathy for his pending addiction). After all that, this dickless hypocrite proceeded to buy the following items...
Not one, but two inflatable sheep blow up love dolls, a bondage kit for beginners, fuzzy handcuffs, a riding crop and a leather mask (the kind you see in fetish videos). The final tally was $156.78, a portion of which goes to my commission, and no, I don't feel guilty, contributing to his addiction. Hey, it's not like I sold him drugs or alcohol.
But I do hope he overdoses and dies while handcuffed to an inflatable sheep, wearing a leather fetish mask.
Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "You should have burnt him with your fire breath and toppled him like a Tokyo high-rise."