Scented. Fucking. Candles.

(Inspired by this post & this comment by katz)

It was a slow day at the office so I was reacquainting myself with my old friend Jack; he doesn’t talk a lot,but he has a way of lifting my spirits. I was just finishing another slug when the door opens; I tip up the brim of my fedora to see Glass Eye Joe walking in.

“Get a load a this satire” He sez, handing me the local rag.

I glanced over it, and it didn’t take long to see that Joe was off his rocker.

“Joe,” I sneered “I didn’t realize that Jimmy the Blade took yer brain as well as yer eye that fateful night. This here is satire like I’m the Queen of France. Listen close ya dumb palooka, if we assume he is satirizing, who is he satirizing?”

“Well, uh” Joe stammered, sounding like my pop’s old truck when the engine starts to knock.

“Certainly not this Meyers putz!” I interjected. “Just look at question number 5″

5. How does stoning rape victims benefit women?

“Now see here, a more consistent response” I started, but realizing I sounded like an old school marm, I took another slug of whiskey; a man has to keep these things balanced.

“As I was saying, the more consistent response would be along the lines of ‘Rape is just a byproduct of promiscuity see, by further stigmatizing promiscuity, via death penalty for rape victims, the dames’ll be more likely stay in their roles as baby incubators and child raisers.’ However, what does this ‘satirist’ go with?”

I shove the rag back in Joe’s face, and he’s looking as jumpy as a frog in a pogo stick shop.

5. I don’t see how this benefits women in any way. The effect in dramatically reducing the number of false rape accusations would, of course, benefit men, but since there is no reliable penalty for false rape accusations in modern society, reducing it would be of little benefit to them.

“That’s right Joe!” I explode, “He goes with false rape accusations, what does that sound like to you!?”

“M…MRAs?” he stammers

“That’s right” I reassure him, finally having lead the mouse to the cheese, “At best this is a poor satirization of the MRM, but this guy here, he’s just too genuine with his hate.”

Suddenly I, feel a draft across the back of my neck, then POW, cold metal strikes my temple and stars burst over my vision. I have just enough time to realize that Joe set me up before it all goes black.

When I come to, it’s all dark. But I can tell it’s somewhere unfamiliar, there’s something wrong with the air. I can’t put my finger on it, so I put my hand up to my head to assess the damage. Blood. Dammit what mess had Joe tied me into this time. And that’s when I realize what’s wrong with the air.

Candles.

Scented. Fucking. Candles.

~ BY This is going to sound terribly PI/chibigodzilla

catWinning

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About cloudiah

I contain platitudes.
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