Spanish bestiality.
| ENTER - Spanish bestiality . |
"Profit Pusher," the man said. "This is...."---he emitted a slight grunt for some reason---"...Curt." "Hello, my name is Donna McTippit, and I'm a reporter for the Tifton Flats Herald-Newsulationist," I informed Curt. "I'd like to address the name of one of your breakfast cereals."
There was a slight pause, and I heard Curt shifting in his chair. Then he held the phone away from his mouth for a moment, muttering, "Don't stop now, Snookie, I'm real close!" to someone in the background.
"Hello?" I said. "Sorry, yes, ma'am, what is the name of the product in question?" Again he grunted and breathed in sharply. "You're marketing a cereal called Hot Wet Pussy!" I said. "Do you realize how offensive that is to a woman like me?!"
"I'm afraid I don't understand, miss," said Curt before sighing blissfully for some strange reason. "How is that offensive exactly?" I rolled my eyes. "I don't know what things are like in Salt Silo, Missouri," I said angrily, "but here in Iowa, you can't just go around referring to a woman's...PLACE... so openly. I think our two thousand readers will be most interested in hearing about this affront!"
"Could you hold on for juuuuuust one second, Miss?" Curt asked, and before I could respond I heard the phone set down on a tabletop. After that, there came a "Holy JESUS, you can swallow a lot of come!" from Curt, and then he instructed the girl in the room with him to "say the Pledge of Allegiance now....lemme see it spill out the sides of your mouth."
He picked up the phone again. "I've just been talking with our legal department, miss," he lied. "You have not!" I exclaimed. "You've been receiving oral sex on the other end of this phone!" "Madam, please....if you agree not to run a story criticizing our company, we'll issue an immediate recall notice for the remaining boxes of Hot Wet Pussy."
"Not good enough," I countered. "This is going into the paper tomorrow." "Well, then," Curt said as I faintly heard his zipper being drawn upwards, "how about a coupon for three free boxes of StrawWOWberry Toast-B-Qs?"
I paused. He really had me in a bind. This could be a truly huge story for me, and maybe even a chance to impress those pompous bigshots over at the Tufton Tribune and Lottery Watcher. But I had a tragic weakness for all the Toast-B-Q flavors, including BlueBURSTberry and ChocoCHOCOlate.
"All right," I agreed, "but those boxes had better be off the shelf in this state and all other states within a week, and I'll expect that coupon FedExed to me." "Very good, ma'am. Have an orgasmic day." With that, he hung up the phone. I'm sure he was satisfied in more ways that one, but I was not feeling so complete. Had I sacrificed my journalistic integrity somehow? I wasn't sure.
A victim of loneliness and a ravenous hunger for Toast-B-Q's, I went through my free boxes over the course of a long holiday weekend. I had always prided myself on keeping a nice trim figure, and I knew I'd have to start working those pounds off immediately, so I put on a sports bra and bicycle shorts and jogged down to Lazy Eye's for some kelp patties and bottled moisture---which has eighty percent less water than normal water! As usual, I was greeted with prurient stares from all the local single men, who gazed at my jiggling backside like they were watching a total lunar eclipse or the late innings of a Tufton Ticks game.
I knew I shouldn't have trusted myself to buy only health food, though, because naturally I wound up in the cereal aisle again like a junkie looking for a fix. The boxes of Hot Wet Pussy had been removed, I saw, so everything was back to normal. I took a small box of Four Grains and a Nut of Some Kind and headed for the checkout line. I stopped dead in my tracks when I passed a pyramidal display at the end of the aisle featuring a new, typically bland wheat cereal from Profit Pusher.