dear sir/madam, I’m sorry to say that my Butt massager 3000 was terrible, who the hell puts razors on a massager!

Posted under Story On By Chief

dear sir/madam, I'm sorry to say that my Butt massager 3000 was terrible, who the hell puts razors on a massager!
 I had to order it sent back to be repaired! It was a good device, but the company that made it did a poor job of it, I'm sure you'll agree! Now I'm going to have to send the new one back to them, because it obviously needs to be replaced.
 it wasn't the razors that was the problem, it was that it required you to have plutonium to use it.
 And I'm not sending it back for that reason! Why do you think they put the razor on the thing? They're fucking idiots! I'm sending it back to them, and then I'm going to get rid of you! You'll never be able to buy a butt massager again! You'll have to buy another product!"
 You press the ultimate nuke button
 , which unleashes a blast of radiation.


"What the fuck did you do?" The man screams. "I'm melting! My skin is melting! What the fuck did you do?" He begins to melt before your eyes, his body turning into fine dust. "Holy shit," he says.


You turn to see what's happened.
 With the fine dust, you use it to sand the rusted chassis of your car. Finally something fine enough to give it a good finish!
 You drive away, leaving the town of Necropolis in your rearview mirror. 


"Well," Mr. Mol stops the truck. "We're getting a little close to our destination."


"Yeah, we are. So what's the plan?" You ask.


"Well, I want to get the attention of those people.
 You use the car's loudspeaker and say "I am your new massage god now."
 "Oh, that sounds like an invitation for trouble, so let's go."


You nod. "Okay. Let's do it." 


You open up the door and step out. As you look at the city, you wonder if this will be as bad as it seems. The sun is setting, and the streets are beginning to fill with people.
 You use Mr. Mol as an example and obliterate him with a massage chair in front of the crowd.
 After you finish, the mob starts chanting "massage god! Massage god! Massage god!" You walk over and do the same to them. Soon, they're all chanting "massage god! Massage god! Massage god!" 


"Okay, okay, let's do this," you say. "I can't believe they're even going to listen to me."
 use your influence to get some celebrity endorsements for your new massage cult
 .


You walk through the city and find a nice, quiet spot. After a moment, the noise dies down. You sit down and wait.


"Hey, where's everyone going?" A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look up to see several people walking towards you. One of them is Bobby.


"Hey, Suzy, I was just wondering where everyone went."
 Hey Bobby. Everyone left to the massage parlor. They wanted to learn from the massage god and one can only learn by being hands-on."
 You say.


"Oh. Um, well I'm glad you're here. I was just wondering if I could come too," He says.


"Sure. Of course. Come on."


You and Bobby walk to the massage parlor. It looks like it's empty, but you notice two large windows. The door is open, so you walk in.
 You see that everyone is giving each other a "happy ending." You're unsure if this cult is even about massages anymore.
 Maybe it's just a scam to get people to buy their products. You walk up to a woman in the middle of the room and tell her to stand up. She does so, but doesn't move. "Okay, I'm going to count to three. If you don't move, you'll be on the floor and you'll be getting a good massage."


"One...
 Two.... Three...." as you say three the woman falls to tthe floor an begins convulsing violently
 . You look at the others. They're all watching the woman, but they're all giving you strange stares. You look at Bobby. "Are you okay?"


"Yeah, I'm fine," He says.


You look at the woman. She's still convulsing, but she's not moving. She's dead.


"What the hell?
 You give her a godly back massage and she comes back to life. It's a massage god miracle!
 What's going on here?" A voice shouts from the crowd.


You turn to see a tall man in black robes. His face is covered with scars. "I'm sorry, sir. There was no god involved. This woman was just a regular, average, everyday person. If you want a good massage, you should go to someone else."

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