“Beastiality night” at candle shop sparks philosophical debate

An event at Brent’s Candles on Martin Luther King Jr. Ave, titled, “beastiality night” has sparked a debate over what is acceptable behavior, before the evening could even get underway.

The get-together, labeled as “beastiality night” was created to give customers time to come in and share erotic fantasy-stories they had come up with about making love to animals.

While the act of beastiality is illegal, writing and sharing stories fantasizing about it, is not.

“I mean, would you prefer that we actually do it?” Said Brent Hinde, of Brent’s Candles.

“We’re giving people an outlet to share their deepest darkest inter-species sexual fantasies, it’s no different than children playing Grand Theft Auto and killing prostitutes. We’re sharing stories about things we think about that are a little unorthodox and different.” Said Brent, arms crossed, puffing from a clove cigarette which hung from the corner of his mouth.

“It just so happens, that a lot of people who shop at my candle shop, also have a sexual affinity for animals, and-“

Sorry I just got a notification from the Offer Up app on my phone I need to go check that real quick.

It’s someone trying to lowball me for my bike.

I’m selling it for $120, which is already a great deal, and he wants it for $100.

I’ll probably do it, but the principle of it is utterly, down-right, misanthropic. 

I have no idea what misanthropic means, honestly, I’m shocked spellcheck didn’t flag it, but apparently it is a real word.

Did I use it right? I’ll never know.

But, yea I’ll sell my bike to the guy.

He probably deserves it.

You can only see a tiny icon of the person on the app.

And in the picture the guy is bald with glasses.

So things already aren’t perfect for him, I guess the least the world could do for him is give him a deal on a used bike.

Ok, fine, you talked me into it, I’ll sell him the bike for $100.

I love the bike though. I have for so many years. It’s covered in shiny silver stickers I got for free at a bike store.

My dad bought me the bike for my birthday I’d say 8 years ago. Maybe 9. But it’s been such a nice bike I’ve enjoyed for hundreds, probably thousands, of miles now. I’m selling it because- whoa I almost caught myself sharing personal information with you for a second. Can’t let that happen.

You never know who’s coming for you.

And while it’s most-likely not someone who’s many paragraphs deep into a fake news story I’m writing, you still can’t be too safe.

Shit, but now you’ll know I’m coming into $100 soon. 

You might want to rob me for that $100.

But you also don’t know what kind of weapons I have in my house to defend myself.

Shit, I just told you I have weapons.

And a house!

Fuck!

I’ve compromised myself too much, I need to end this article now and go into my safe room.

Fuck, now you know I have a safe room!

Whatever, you don’t know that the code to my bunker is *3981992999102AB2S2231

Fuck, now you know the code to my bunker!

Well, I have access to 6 bunkers, and you won’t know which bunker I will be in, so good luck figuring that out. By the time you figure that out I will have a sufficient booby-trap set up-FUCK I NEED TO STOP TELLING YOU WHAT I’M DOING!

I got a copy of The New Yorker yesterday, and every time I try to read one of their articles it just seems to pompous. They use such unnecessary vocabulary and it all reads so arrogant, like the publication is so important and we’re so lucky to be reading their stupid articles.

I needed to change the subject so you would take your mind off breaking into my bunkers.

Now that, that’s over I can go back to my story about “beastiality night” at the candle shop which, still unbeknownst to us, sparks a philosophical debate.

I visualized myself finishing the story and not even a slight flash of anything funny crossed my mind. I saw the full article to conclusion and it was still just a piece of shit.

It would have made sense, plot-wise, but it was devoid of comedy. As is the last few sentences.

And I’m a “comedy guy,” so if stuff isn’t “comedy enough” for me, I bail.

And seeing as comedy has seemed to exit this article a while ago now, I will do the same and try to find where the comedy went.

I’ll report back to you when I find it.