SFH3 Run #1924: Duty-Free
|:||Presidio Golf Course|
|:||Stinky Floss & Public Enema No. 2|
|:||Do Her Well|
Stinky Floss blew her airhorn, making half of the gathered employees cringe in fear. Crabs jerked awake suddenly and looked around. When he saw he was not the subject of Stinky Floss’s ire, he closed his eyes once more. Cuming Mutha, eyes darting around, soon followed his example.
“This is unacceptable!” Stinky Floss held up a red gelatinous cock, the tip hanging by just a thread before it plopped down to the floor. “We have deadlines, people. We have buyers lined up around the block, and this is what we have to show for five rounds of Kickstarter and an Angel Investor whose name rhymes with Sneezos? I’ve promised a delivery to the military by next week, and we are going to get results one way or another. The board of directors is at my throat.”
“What kind of a show do you think we’re running here?” added Little Sissy Pants Hasher Boy. “The expectations here at Theranus are high—we demand full devotion of your time and energy. And don’t think I haven’t seen you fucking around, Bloqueen.”
“I’ll have you know being a model is long and hard work,” Bloqueen retorted. “How about leaning on some of the other people? Five Angry Inches hasn’t been pulling his girth.” Five Angry Inches just shrugged.
“Now, now,” On All Fours said calmly. “Instead of playing the blame game, maybe we can identify problems in our manufacturing process?”
“Well it’s not the source of the gelatin that’s the problem,” Udder Moron chimed in. “I went through at least six cemeteries to get the good stuff.”
“The recent FDA inspections set us back,” Cream Throat Willy admitted. “Some of the paperwork was lost after Limbo Bimbo went on a bender and I had to go after him.”
“Hey, I was drunk,” Limbo Bimbo shrugged.
“No, I’m Drunk,” said I’m Drunk. “But just on a technicality.”
“Anyway, if we are going to get this device through the approval process, we’re going to have to take a step back so that we comply with the regulatory structure,” reasoned Do Her Well. “And that means Shaft is going to have to lead us through the FDA inspections once again.”
“The FDA can inspect my ass!” Stinky Floss yelled back.
“That project is also… ahem… behind schedule,” Yessiryesshesfat admitted.
“Maybe we went too big?” asked Circle Jerk. “We always knew there was a massive hole in the design plan…”
“It’s just that the dimensions got a little complicated,” Stinky Floss admitted, calming down slightly. “But I just thought you guys would be up to the task.”
“And gals!” Sleazy pointed out.
“And gals,” Stinky Floss admitted. “Look, I only hired the best and the brightest. You, Deadbeat, you haven’t even paid for any of our supplies, and you should be proud of that. Dick Simmons, our promotional materials are peerless. Bierectional, I never know whether you are coming or going, you’re just that busy. Just Jeff, I can’t believe how much you’ve brought to the table after only being with this company for a few months. I know we’re in a bind, but I believe in us. I believe in FellaShots.”
“Maybe we should open the floor to any and all ideas?” Tuna on Top suggested.
“I think the molds need better cleaning,” Wash This Ass spoke up. “That may prevent the sticking and allow for the length to remain intact.”
“I figured out a cool new way to stop leaks from any and all orifices—it’s gonna revolutionize our injection system. Get this—it’s called a tampon.” Hello Titties added.
“Big Cock Chains and I have some spin off products in mind,” Muppet Dick added.
“I have a great marketing strategy to expand our client base,” Dick Ass Mother Fucker spoke up.
“Product testing is going well,” Backside Banger added. “At least with the bits that Just Doesn’t Get It and I are able to get ahold of—the taste is spot on.”
“And I’ll talk to Bezos… I mean, Sneezos,” Masterbaster said with finality. “If there is anyone who can understand how a dick can get fucked with, it’s him.”
“That’s the spirit I was looking for!” Stinky Floss cheered. “On on!”