I don’t like you. I don’t respect you. And I cherish the opportunity to shatter that smug face of yours. Much like you callously did to that prostitute. Karma is a boomerang, brother. You had to know that sooner or later, this day was coming.
It’s time you pay the piper.
Whatcha mean you have no idea what I’m talking about? Don’t play dumb. Miami Beach? 2007? Ringing any bells? Yeaaaah. Now we’re vibing.
I don’t give two shits that she nibbled on your tongue. If you aren’t into the rough stuff, you stipulate that beforehand. That’s just common sense, everyone knows that. That poor woman was just trying to hustle, grind, and make an honest dollar. And you, you sick bastard, put her on the sidelines for months. How was she supposed to suck dick with a broken jaw? Huh? All because you were a sensitive little bitch.
…You’re not ‘The ShamWow Guy’?
Well I suppose you won’t be reimbursing my twenty bucks then? Got sucked in with that ‘German’s always make good stuff’ line. Pfft. Fuckin’ liar. Wasn’t even a good jizz rag.
Sorry, ‘Miracle Milk’ rag.
My bad, bro. Certainly you can understand my confusion. After all, you both have no respect for women. I don’t doubt you’ve slapped an escort or two around. You’re both fuckin’ frauds. In every facet of life, in every personal, professional AND competitive endeavour.
I was pretty spot on with my assessment of ‘sensitive little bitch’. I mean, you had a full on bitchfit after that first loss. It was a good thing that prison butt fuck buddy of yours was there to calm your nerves. Stroke that bruised ego of yours. Tickle your taint. Consensually, of course.
If not, you might have quit and moved on to your next venture. Packed up that Snake Oil Gypsy Wagon and set forth three cities west. This is just a means to an end, right? A stepping stone to bigger and better things?
What is Steve Harrison’s end game?
Don’t answer. It was a rhetorical question. I really don’t give a fuck. Doesn’t matter one iota, cause it’s not getting in the way of my end game. You’re nothing more than a speed bump in my journey, and I ain’t slowing down one bit.
Don’t mistake this as arrogance. Don’t think I’m looking beyond you, or am trying to deceive you. I’m not presenting any smoke and mirrors. I see you clearly, and trust me when I say when you look at me, there are no false pretenses. What you see is what you get.
And you’re gonna get choked thee fuck out. Just like my buddy Zeb. Just like ‘hardcore’ Scotty now knows. And it ain’t personal. It’s purely business. It’s your language Miracle Man. Should be easy for you to understand.
Easy to accept? Now that’s a different story. Fear not though, entrepreneur extraordinaire, at least you’ve got that M.E circle jerk to raise your spirits. You can use those tears as lube too. Score!
I do have to admit, however, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I just have to to know…
What is your schtick? Is it OxiClean? The Gazelle? It’s not Subway, is it? Are all of them under the Miracle Enterprises banner? Is Miracle Enterprises incorporated?
I suppose it doesn’t matter. Any of it.
Billy Mays, R.I.P, ain’t around to clean the shit stains I beat outta you. Buy a bucket though. Try two, maybe three scoops. ‘Unleash the power of oxygen!’ Let me know how those white trunks turn out.
Tony Little ain’t available, so don’t count on him to motivate you. You sure as hell don’t have twenty eight days to sculpt a winner. Try your damnedest, but his battle cry of ‘you can do it’ means fuck all. No you can’t.
And Jared Fogle, well, I’m not sure if he’s out of prison yet or not. What I do know is it’ll be awfully hard to ‘eat fresh’ with a broken jaw. But hey, at least you can empathize with that prostitute!
I’m putting Miracle Enterprises out of business, and the Miracle Man’s fifteen minutes are up.
But being the nice, creative guy that I am, I’ma do you a solid. I’ma crush your dreams so fuckin’ quickly that you can keep that monogram on those tights, and avoid rebranding costs.
Miracle Man, prepare to become ‘Minute Man’.
It’s a Double Entendre!