Style No. 89: Porn Shoot

Standard
The cable guys.

The cable guys.

“OK, so I’ll set up the camera here, and Pete and Willy will be on the far side of the living room fixing the cable, both wearing those orange t-shirts we talked about. Did somebody bring them?”

“They’ve already got them on,” the new guy said.

“Good. And where are they, anyway?”

“I think they’re off working on their stiffies,” he said.

“Right. Did you bring some of those steam engine magazines? You know Willy can’t get it up unless someone’s splayed on a locomotive.”

“All I could find was regular traincore, nothing steam-powered. But it’s a great mag, there’s a rooftop spread on a bend near the Rockies that I think will do nicely. Judging by what the three of them are doing it’s a miracle they didn’t fall off.”

“A train threesome, yeah. Let’s hope it does the trick. If not, can you stuntcock for him?”

“Well, given the girl, if it’s all the same I’d rather not.”

The director drops his equipment and glares at the new guy. “Look man, do you want this job or not? You’re the one who couldn’t even get the damn steamcore mags, so it’s your cock on the line here.” The new guy says nothing, nods. “Good. In this business you have to be ready for anything. You’re like a surgeon, always on call. A cockdoctor. Think of yourself as a cockdoctor.”

“Cockdoctor, got it.”

“So they’ll be working on the TV, just whistling away or staring in the distance or whatever, and that’s when the nervous grandmother will pop out of the shower.”

“What’s her costume again?”

“Nothing. She’ll be naked except for the towel on her head.”

“Right, to dry her hair.”

“No, to hide the handcuffs on top of her head.”

“And are the cable guys wearing pants?”

“Pants?”

“Yes, are they wearing pants at this point?”

“Pants, no pants, it doesn’t matter. It’ll all be coming off soon enough.”

“Right. So then they sleep with the grandmother by the TV?”

“No no no. They don’t want to sleep with her, because she’s old. But then she handcuffs them to the radiator so she can have her way with them.”

“I see. So the plot, essentially, is that this grandmother rapes two TV repairmen while they’re chained to her radiator?”

“What man, are you mad? Of course not, who would want to watch a ghastly film like that? No, just as she moves in on the poor bastards, behind them all a strange man appears.”

“Ah, Dave.”

“Yes, Davebut in the movie he’s just a strange man. A knowing man.”

“Strange Dave.”

The director looks askance at the new guy, sighs. “Where is Dave anyway?”

“Angie said he went to shave his balls.”

“What on earth for?”

“For his balls.”

The director winces. “Who hired you again?”

“Pete. My cousin.”

“Of course.”

“So then what, the strange man frees the cable guys and they all have a go at the old woman for revenge?”

“What do you think this is man, Gran Bangers 12?”

“Well, I just thought.”

“‘You just thought.’ Well no, they do not violate that misguided granny. The strange man simply looks the other way, and then we end the scene.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Johnson.”

“You’re fired, Johnson.”

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