Coward? Bunghole!

The bank.
There are more employees than customers but still there is a line. The woman ahead of me, frumpy but still clad in leather, says "What is this shit!" I step forward. We touch. She does not turn around. I step closer. She falls forward. Her front teeth rip the man in front of her's flannel shirt. He is wearing a helmet. Kinda like mine! I shrug. He turns to the woman, who glares- at him, not me. She hasn't looked at me. I bend to help her up but the flannel guy gets there first, holding her wrist gently in his big, grimy hand. She doesn't say thank you. I begin to wonder what her problem is and how I might translate it into the type of anal sex that is fun but still not a jailable offense. When she is on her feet I step to her again. This time I say as smoothly and quietly as I can, "Can I have some of your money?" I touch her hip. She shakes her head and her hair brushes my mouth. Even quieter I say, "Can I fuck your ass?" She nods. Then it is her turn.

REFORM!

Policital activism! What could be more effective than hobbling up to some Pentagon apparatchik and rubbing my naked tushy into his face?
How to defend? Ward off the encroaching bum with hands? Briefcase? Ha!
Oh, how my poxy ass is weaponized in the name of freedom and thrills! He crouches on the ground. He huddles in a ball. And I sit on him. Suit ruined, policy changed.
But I'm not interested in undermining foundations. I'm not interested in much. Unless something is good on tv. Something good is always on tv. Usually in Spanish, which I don't understand. So what?
I'm Rex Kramer and I don't live here. That's what's good on tv. The terrified lady blocking the view.
She knows what I can do and she'd like to see me try. What do you think I mean?
Ha!

Movie Mania!

Yes, this is a switchblade.