For Georgie Boy

So the Jerk Store called. They said they were running out of you. Yeah, you heard right-you’re a popular model, I guess. The Jerk Store called and said they couldn’t keep the shelves stocked, you were just flying off them. The guy at the Jerk Store confided in me that it was not how the executives had envisioned things working. You were the discount model: you know, after they put you together, they even did all that stuff to your face to make you less appealing. Even priced you at a loss hoping the old bait and switch would click. They thought people would take one look at you, and decide to invest in at least the midline model, if not a top shelf jerk with all the bells and whistles. I’m not sure why they thought putting bells and whistles on that model would make it more appealing, but the tastes of the wealthy have always baffled me. Anyhow, it turns out, you hit the right price point for a lot of people-I guess they weren’t looking to pay extra for handsomer, more melodious jerks this year. The recession gets around to everyone eventually. Also, the Jerk Store guy told me that the way they had you posed in the big ass package they set you in, with those scare quote hands and that sneer, he guesses people thought it was really quite campy. You’re, like, a fucking party favor. Getting passed around on Christmas like fruitcake. Some gamer told me the next big fighter game coming out is going to have a version of you as an easter egg. Your special moves are going to be some kind of sarcasm jujitsu involving a lot of excessive hand gestures and eye rolling. Anyway, I just thought you should know that the Jerk Store called and said they’re running out of you.

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