The camera descends on a talent agent's office. The agent is out, but the office is quite occupied.
You see six, seven... Make that ten girls, as many young women as one has fingers to diddle them with, sprawled about the carpet. One has her fist and arm up to her elbow in another's cunt. A third is spraying champagne and seltzer over the assemblage. Off in a corner, you see one chomping playfully on another's nipple, while still another alternates being tonguing the pussy and penetrating it with an ear of corn. Chocolate syrup, and piss and come and saliva, is caked in the carpet. Skin is smudged, and clitores are worn down from extensive manipulation.
Then the door opens, and for a split second, the talent agent sees the tableau before him. Just as quickly, though, each girl assumes a tame position. One lounges, albeit it nude, in a swivel chair, reading Plimpton's "Courage of a Lion". Two others knit scarves. A few others are eating cheese sandwiches and drinking cranberry juice from Dixie cups.
The scene has gone from sorority party following a mescaline binge, to dorm study-lounge in no time.
But, the talent agent begs, "Can you do what you were doing before?"
"No", the ten answer in unison.
"Well, at least say what your act is called".
"We're", they begin, "Unionized sex-workers".
***
Hmmm. A joke on unions and burlesque workers in one swoop.
I must have just gotten back from "The Aristocrats".
You see six, seven... Make that ten girls, as many young women as one has fingers to diddle them with, sprawled about the carpet. One has her fist and arm up to her elbow in another's cunt. A third is spraying champagne and seltzer over the assemblage. Off in a corner, you see one chomping playfully on another's nipple, while still another alternates being tonguing the pussy and penetrating it with an ear of corn. Chocolate syrup, and piss and come and saliva, is caked in the carpet. Skin is smudged, and clitores are worn down from extensive manipulation.
Then the door opens, and for a split second, the talent agent sees the tableau before him. Just as quickly, though, each girl assumes a tame position. One lounges, albeit it nude, in a swivel chair, reading Plimpton's "Courage of a Lion". Two others knit scarves. A few others are eating cheese sandwiches and drinking cranberry juice from Dixie cups.
The scene has gone from sorority party following a mescaline binge, to dorm study-lounge in no time.
But, the talent agent begs, "Can you do what you were doing before?"
"No", the ten answer in unison.
"Well, at least say what your act is called".
"We're", they begin, "Unionized sex-workers".
***
Hmmm. A joke on unions and burlesque workers in one swoop.
I must have just gotten back from "The Aristocrats".
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
maddy:
see i am a little disappointed you didn't get the "let's go trick or treating dressed up like marilyn manson..." it is self
maddy:
i also used to bag groceries, well i was supposed to be a cashier but i hated it so much i played a bagger every chance i got. but yes you are right, i saw more fat people on there than old sick people. i used to love bringing them into the store. of course i would ride around the parking lot for awhile. and and i wore heelys sometimes. it was fun bringing in carts while you were rolling with them.