a grouse with completely feathered feet


Evening has this job. She works for a consulting company to create "product memes": hitting on gentlemen at bars, taverns, pubs, and vinieras solely for the purpose of ingratiating product x (shoes, deodorant, beer, anti-beer energy drink) into the mindset of the "amorous target." Most of the time guys don't even really know the difference, or care, when she touches their shoulders. That's the clincher. In a fondle, she also inserts brand tracking beacon underneath their skin. So as to better follow the shopping machinations of those flirted upon. Success rates are high. Their headquarters is in the Warehouse District, somewhere. Above a Turkish bath? In it? Likely. Weaponry is just a hobby for her. In her employ, she is the weapon.

Which would make a smashing tagline for a movie. Except with a dash of italics: She is the weapon.

This strategy works for almost sentence: I am the squatter. See? Much punch.

Kids, don't try this at home! This being "pretending to care about people in drinking establishments for exponential wealth outcomes."


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