The doorbell rings. You can barely contain your excitement as you practically prance to the front door. Your skin-tight latex pants squeak loudly against themselves; the sound emanating from your crotch is that of two angry balloons locked in a vicious wrestling match.
You open the door to reveal the treat you’ve ordered for yourself; a thirty-one-year-old escort named Tammy. You escort Tammy the escort into you living room, snickering under your breath at your own little private pun joke. The two of you reach the couch and, ever the consummate gentleman, you offer Tammy a seat on the cushion with the fewest stains on it.
On the coffee table about a foot and half in front of the couch sit a dozen clear plastic milk jugs filled with a pink liquid that closely resembles commercial grade hand soap. The snap caps at the top have been replaced by white plastic push-pump dispensers.
“What are those?” Tammy asks, pointing at the jugs.
“Oh, those? Those are for later, baby,” you reply with the clumsy, ham-fisted charm of a used dishwasher salesman.
“So, what is it I can do for you tonight, handsome?” Tammy asks in her sultry contralto.
“Tammy, tonight I have something very special in mind. I have you for three hours, isn’t that right?”
“That’s what you paid for when you ordered, honey. So, yeah, as long as you’re a gentleman I’ll be sticking around until 1AM or so.”
“Great, great. Okay, you’ll need this.” You hand Tammy a ream of paper bound with three one-inch metal rings. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes to study, but it’s okay if you don’t know all your lines, we’re not filming. You can refer to the script at any time. I’ll be playing the role of Ray. You’ll be playing all other roles.”
Tammy looks down at the paper you gave her. “This is the script to Ghostbusters 2.”
“That’s very good, Tammy. Glad to know you can read. Now, put those reading skills to use and learn your parts. Understand that when I give the line ‘I, Ray, am Vigo’ that’s your cue to dump all this slime I’ve produced-“ you point at the pink goo jugs on the coffee table “-all over me and begin fellating me.”
Tammy eyes the jugs of slime severely. “So we’re gonna do it…in that?”
“Well, Tammy, you’ll remember that Ray was covered in pink slime at the end of Ghostbusters 2. You want this to be screen accurate, don’t you?”
“I…guess?”
“Good. Now, previous renditions have featured my escorts switching in and out of blackface to deliver the lines of Winston, but due to the fact that this was extremely time consuming and more than a little bit racist, I’ll ask that you simply put on this low-tack crepe mustache before reading the Winston parts, and remove it immediately after.”
Tammy looks confused. “I don’t think-“
“Right you are, Tammy!” you exclaim with glee, hopping up and down while clapping. “Ernie Hudson returned for Ghostbusters 2, but his mustache did not! That was a test, Tammy, and you passed!”
“Yaaay!” Tammy shouts in a tired, practiced tone that wouldn’t convince a two-year-old.
“I’ll expect a little more effort than that, Tammy," you chide. "I know you’ve got talent- my dad told me all about you. Let’s get started.”