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| HELLO, I'M GEORGE ZIMMER, FOUNDER AND C.E.O. OF THE MEN'S WEARHOUSE. AS BEFITS ANY MAN OF MY SENSATIONALLY STUPENDOUS STATURE, I HAVE HAD MY SHARE OF BRUSHES WITH THE LAW. | |
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| I RECALL ONE AUSPICIOUS AUTUMN AFTERNOON I WAS LEAVING THE SCENE OF YET ANOTHER OF MY RIDICULOUSLY RAPTUROUS RAPE RUNS AT THE LOCAL CONVENT WHEN I WAS ACCOSTED BY A POSITIVELY PULSE-POUNDINGLY PRECOCIOUS POLICEWOMAN. ONE LOOK AT THE BUSTY BADGE-BRANDISHING BEAUTY HAD MY CONSUMMATELY COLLOSAL CROTCH CANNON THUMPING AGAINST MY PANT LEG FOR RELEASE. | |
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| A TWITCH OF THE WRIST, AND MY MONSTROUSLY MIGHTY, MAGESTICALLY MANED LOIN LION ROARED FORTH AND DROVE DEEP PAST THE LUSCIOUSLY LASCIVIOUS LAW-LADY'S LABIA. AS SHE SQUIRMED AND SWAYED AT THE SOUL-SPEARING SENSATION THAT IS THE SPIRITUAL SEXPERIENCE OF ZIMMER, MY SOFA-SIZED SWEATY SEXUAL SWASHBUCKLER SPOUTED A SINFULLY SUCCULENT SPRAY OF SENSATIONALLY SLOPPY, SWEET-SMELLING SPERM SAUCE. I'VE NEVER PAID A PARKING TICKET SINCE. I GUARANTEE IT. | |
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