Home > Remonstrations of Fingers Rolly > I’m Gonna Beat the Piss Out of that Guy at the Men’s Shop

I’m Gonna Beat the Piss Out of that Guy at the Men’s Shop

February 25, 2015 Leave a comment Go to comments
Fingers Rolly

Fingers Rolly


I like a normal white button-up shirt. You can maybe sell me on a restrained checked pattern but that’s about fucking it. Don’t even come near me with one of those wild god damn jungle-themed horseshit shirts with the tigers all over it. You do and I’ll kick your dick in, I will that.

So, the other day, I’m just standing around at the stack of dress shirts that sit in the middle of the men’s store like some sort of beckoning pyramid. I’ve got a low wail going because I’m thinking about that absolute whore of a desert, that brown sweeping slut of tumbleweeds and I’m also tearing the plastic wrapper off shirts indiscriminately. I escalated to a medium-level scream after a few minutes.

That’s when this horse’s ass comes over.

“Sir, sir, these shirts must stay sealed. They are direct from the factory.”

He bent over the big pile of shirts and plastic wrap like he was picking up a god damn fancypants tea set.

The Fashion Elephant

The Fashion Elephant

“I’ll take my belt off,” I threatened. He looked at me– he had some little tight suit on, clearly he was a twilighter.

“These shirts will stay sealed. And you sir, can GET OUT!”

He escorted me out of the store and into the mall corridor. Some fucker was there in a clown suit with balloons. I looked down at the little silver strip on the floor– the strip that separates individual stores from the communal corridor.

“The Fashion Elephant no longer wants your business,” the guy added by means of a finale.

But by then it no longer mattered. By then, I was full thrust in thinking of that mongrel bitch of a desert.

I screamed into the clown’s face and don’t remember anything after that.

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