Bob: Welcome back to Mike Modano’s bedroom. No score so far, but Modano’s looking to change that. How are you going to get on the board, Mike?
Mike: Uh, how did you get past my security system?
Bob: That’s not important. Will you use any props? Handcuffs? Whips? Donkeys?
Mike: Please, Bob. Just go away. Johan Franzen isn’t allowed in my house.
Bob: Thank you, Mike. Let’s send it over to Chris Simpson who’s standing by with Willa.
Chris: Thanks, Bob. Willa, Mike didn’t take out the trash last night. Will that impact your decision on where you’ll allow him to stick his Koho tonight?
Willa: Excuse me?
Mike: Honey, let’s just do this.
Chris: What about the rumors of sexual performance-enhancing drugs that cloud Mike’s past relationships?
Willa: I live here! There are no little blue pills in the medicine cabinet!
Mike: Honey, be quiet.
Mike and Willa disrobe
Pierre: Whoa! Bob and Chris, I don’t know if you can see this, but Willa’s had a little work done in the upper torso area!
Mike: Where the hell did you come from?
Pierre: Those whoppers will stay at attention for hours! No need to give them any greenies!
Mike and Willa embrace
Bob: Pierre, hate to interrupt, but I’m standing here with Mike and Willa’s maid. Consuela, what do you think of Mike’s technique?
Consuela: Ay, papi!
Willa: CON! SWAY! LA! GET! OUT! OHHHH! OF! HERE!!
Consuela: Si!
Pierre: Modano’s grunting at two-second intervals. He needs to thrust more slowly if he wants to put one on the board.
Mike: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BED! AH … AHHH. Fuck.
Willa: Goddamnit. You’re sleeping on the couch for that, Mike.
Bob: Mike, it’s obviously a disappointing loss. How do you plan to respond next time?
Mike punches Bob in the face
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I want to be Mike Modano.
Did Chris Simpson throw poop at Willa?
That was amazing.
Chris was wearing leather during all this, correct?
Maybe he should have dug out the ball gag…for Bob and Pierre