The inherent dangers of the interweb...

So there I was, pondering yet again how to take over the world when my telephone rang.

Me: Hello?
She: I have to ask you for a favour. But you need to just listen and not judge, okay?
Me: …this already sounds promising.
She: I need you to ask your friend if I can borrow his handcuffs.
Me: What?!?
She: The novelty kind suck! Those things can’t restrain a flea!
Me: …
She: And the pink, poofy feathers? No. Way. Ever!
Me: …
She: Is that judgment I don’t hear in your voice?
Me: …
She: What?
Me: Gaaah! …no details, okay?
She: Deal.
Me: And make sure you clean them off!
She: I’m a dirty girl, not a gross one.
Me: Whatevs. I'll have to ask my friend if the cuffs will be…um…available this weekend.
She: Eeew! Totally TMI!
Me: Uh...hello? Pot? Kettle? Black!
She: I really need them soon.
Me: It would be a lot easier if you had your own set.
She: Can you even buy them?
Me: Well, the cops have to get them from somewhere.
She: Where?
Me: I dunno. Have you tried Googling “handcuffs?”
She: Are you sh*tting me?
Me: I’m serious. You can buy practically anything online. Here, wait…I’ll check it out. My machine's up.

[sound of typing keys]

Me: …Hmmm. Holy sh*t! They’re $165! There has to be someplace cheaper. Let’s see…Here we go. “Protection Depot.” There's the menu. Click there...and there. Okay. Huh? What the hell is a kubaton?? Never mind. Here we go – police issue handcuffs: $15.99 US.
She: That’s not bad. I can swing that.
Me: Are you interested in leg cuffs or thumb cuffs? They have those, too. In fact, those thumb cuffs are actually kind of cute.
She: ...You’re a sick, sick puppy!
Me: Thank you. I try. I’m going to be in the States next month. Want me to pick up a set for you?
She: And how are you going to explain it to customs?
Me: Truth usually works. Besides, they’ll be looking for other stuff. My niece wants me to smuggle some sort of spicy gourmet wieners for her.
She: Wieners and handcuffs. That’ll be an interesting interview at the border.

[sound of mouse clicking]

Me: Hey, they have slingshots!
She: Seriously?
Me: They’re stainless steel with rubber tubing. And they prop up on your wrist. Get this! They come with “premium steel ammo shots!” Only $3.89 per package.
She: What?!?
Me: Hey, you can hunt with these things! This site is insane! Let’s see what else they have.

[sound of mouse clicking]

Me: Oh. My. God!! Blowguns! They sell fricking blowguns!!
She: WHAT!?!
Me: With darts! Oh!Oh! Get this! They come in .40 and .50 calibre models!
She: ...That's too bizarre and is kinda freaking me out.
Me: The blowguns have an anti-inhale safety mouthpiece! That is totally the freaking bomb!
She: Okay – now you’re officially scary. Like "I ate his liver with fava beans and a nice chianti" scary.
Me: Uh, right. Hello...paging Officer Kinky!
She: Oh, no you di'n't!!
Me: Whoa! Score! They have stun guns!
She: ...uhhh..."Score" and "stun guns" should really not be used together in the same sentence...
Me: Hey! They have a purse-sized model called the “Small Fry!”

www.protectiondepot.com

Sacred Sounds of Spring

Fuelled by a multiple chocolate rabbit gorgefest (because the yummy buggers are 50% off today), the Loyal Fan, the Wise Analyst and the Shit Disturber (guess who?) have at it over that most sacred and profound spring subjects – NHL hockey playoffs!

Loyal Fan: *pops open a brewsky* So, I’m calling it Canucks in 6 or 7. What do you two think?

Wise Analyst: Dallas is hot right now, and they have some good veteran leadership. They’ll give our boys a challenge. But our special teams and goaltending will edge them out. Canucks in 7.

Shit Disturber: I dunno. Luongo’s untried, Turco’s an old hand at this and the Stars like to get down and dirty in the neutral zone which isn’t how our boys usually like it. I say Stars in 6 or 7.

Loyal Fan: PPBBBBTTTT!!! *beer spews everywhere* [BLEEEEEP!] What?! No [BLEEP]ing way! Turco SUX! He’s King of the post-season choke!

Wise Analyst: Well yes, there is that to consider. I think we might see Luongo struggle to get his playoff legs underneath him. He might even lose a game. But he’ll prevail in the end.

Shit Disturber: *chomps the ears off a chocolate bunny, chewing furiously* True, true. But how do we know Luongo won’t choke? Sure, he’s hungry but does he have a mental game? The playoffs are a totally different beast y'know...

Wise Analyst: *sniffs disdainfully* Come, come Shit Disturber. Luongo has bagged 48 games and an MVP nomination. That’s not going to disappear overnight before the puck drops on Game one.

Shit Disturber: *muttering* ...or so you hope...

Wise Analyst: *glares* Besides, we have the Sedins, Cooke, Burrows, Cowan and Linden to deliver a pounding to the aging Stars.

Shit Disturber: Well, sure, the Ugly Twins [TM] are physically as strong as they’ve ever been and the ‘Nucks have the advantage as far as youth and physical conditioning are concerned.

Loyal Fan: Damn straight! [BURPS]

Shit Disturber: *bangs chocolate rabbit on table to make a point* But are they tough enough to mentally survive the old coots grinding away on them? Wait… that sounded vaguely perverted…

Loyal Fan: *crushes empty beer can* Yo, Shitty Cent! Luongo = World Cup AND Memorial Cup champion, you asshat. *bounces beer can off Shit Disturber's face* Who let you on this bandwagon anyways?

Shit Disturber: WHAT?!

Wise Analyst: Now there’s no need for name calling…

Shit Disturber: Seriously, did you just throw down, punk ass?

Loyal Fan: WOOooooooo! I’m sooo scaaaaared!

Shit Disturber: That does it! The gloves are off, pansy! You and me, after school! Three o’clock, by the tetherball pole. And no open handed slapping allowed! *sticks out chocolatey tongue*

Loyal Fan: *rude gesture* Bring it on, bitch!

Wise Analyst: Wait…this is not how a civilized society resolves its conflicts!

As birdsong echoes melodiously in the background, and the earth unfurls it's new leaf green robe to the sun, we exit to the traditional spring sounds of flesh smacking on plexiglass and men weeping unabashedly as they exit to the golf course...