"'1986. CES Convention. High-powered modified dog whistle attracts dozens of bears to the Las Vegas Convention Centre. Bears overpower security, ignore women in tightly clad outfits and proceed to take over most of the first floor. Some horribly maimed'; I see your wife here, 'many killed'; your blind sister Elise who evidently had a fairly major gambling problem. When I found her she was trying to put quarters into Sharon Stone who was doing her best to remain inconspicuous. Unfortunately we had to send her back because Basic Instinct hadn't been made yet and this was apparently relevant to something Important which of course would never be revealed to us. He certainly works in mysterious ways.
"So, it says here you were...'in line to test the Dust Buster Bunny?' What is that exactly?"
You hesistated to answer, then told him it wasn't important. He insisted that it was, since well you know, it might be a deal breaker.
"Oh wait--" he says. "It's got it here on the next page. Silly me."
You swallowed.
"'A device used to combine one of man's most hated tasks with one he can't get enough of. Vacuuming and sex.'"
You took a step back.
"Wait. So how does this work exactly? Oh wait! There's more!"
He holds up in front of you the diagram on the clipboard. Its base is circular with a fine black brush running around the edge. You remebered that was where the sucking took place. Protruding from the exterior was like a bicycle seat kind of leading towards the side of the plastic body where the holes were. Also where the sucking took place. As the plastic mold went up it kind of went into the shape of breasts and shoulder and neck and head. It had bunny ears. The breasts were hard and cold, but you specifically remember the salesman saying that the retail version would use internally heated silicon. You don't really remember much else about it. What colour it was. How expensive it was--but it was something ridiculous. You remember the bunny ears.
"So...it's not like you did anything with this thing is it?"
You shook your head.
"Because sometimes they miss stuff on these summary sheets, and--"
You tried to look innocent.
"Cause I mean if we get up there and they check it out on the computer system and you're like--"
You remained silent.
"It's gonna be a shit sandwich for both of us."
You nodded.
"So it says here you afforded a look at the Dust Buster Bunny, that you had some impure thoughts, and then a big ol grizzly came and swiped you through the torso. That about it chief?"
You nodded.
He turned down at you with a glance. "Naw. That ain't about it. Not even close. You thought you were gonna pull one on me?"
You remained speechless.
"To be honest though, wouldn't made much difference if you'd told the truth. Sure, forgive and forget works to an extent, but come on now man. We all gotta have boundaries. Gotta know where to draw the line. Now your wife, she's got a place up here, but we can't let you both occupy the same paradise. We just wanted to fuck with your head a little. Get your hopes up. We'll show it to her when she gets up here. That kinda thing."
* * *
"We got it all right here. Why wouldn't we? Your obsession with the DBB, those sleepless nights in your basement trying to build your own prototype that would be better in every way. More pleasure. More suction. But inevitably you did not have the funds or the self discipline to get the thing completed. Every night you would go down there and instead of improving upon it you would just have intercourse with it, even though the inside wasn't even properly sealed, and you're lucky you didn't get your junk stuck in a cog and die that way instead. Well actually that would have worked out better for you in the end."
He passed you a pair of welding goggles. "Good chance your eyeballs will explode down there, and if they catch you when it happens, they make you drink it. The eye juice."
You took the goggles.
"But really why should I be helping you out? A guy who spends his last moments lying on the ground in two pieces, his wife screaming from the amount of blood gushing from her face. Dragging her out there for the five hour drive because according to you she totally had to see this fucking thing for herself. And you screaming even louder, because in front of you you can see your own legs with the pants torn off. With your dick in plain view. You scream at her to pick you up and she does and you tell her no--the bottom half. You guide her, because she can't see a thing, to the DBB and you tell her to take your dead member and shove it into that contraption, that you wanted to have at least a part of you know what it was like. And she held that half of you there for five minutes as you watched and her knees began to buckle until she collapsed on the floor with blood raining down on her as a scrawny black bear chews your lower body to pieces."
He passed you a pair of welding goggles. "Good chance your eyeballs will explode down there, and if they catch you when it happens, they make you drink it. The eye juice."
You took the goggles.
"But really why should I be helping you out? A guy who spends his last moments lying on the ground in two pieces, his wife screaming from the amount of blood gushing from her face. Dragging her out there for the five hour drive because according to you she totally had to see this fucking thing for herself. And you screaming even louder, because in front of you you can see your own legs with the pants torn off. With your dick in plain view. You scream at her to pick you up and she does and you tell her no--the bottom half. You guide her, because she can't see a thing, to the DBB and you tell her to take your dead member and shove it into that contraption, that you wanted to have at least a part of you know what it was like. And she held that half of you there for five minutes as you watched and her knees began to buckle until she collapsed on the floor with blood raining down on her as a scrawny black bear chews your lower body to pieces."
