It may interest you that I am responsible for one of the most expensive home property listings in history. Nestled in five acres outside Los Angeles, the property features 29 rooms and a four-bedroom guest house, with direct golf and private road access.
You may of heard of this place. A little building called The Playboy Mansion. But if you read this in the news, you may have heard of the small, let’s say special arrangement, with the current owner, one Mr. Hugh Hefner. Included in this palace’s asking price of $200 million is a single requirement: Mr. Hefner must be allowed to continue living on the property throughout the rest of his natural life. AndCOUGHCOUGH.
Oh, nothing. I said mumblemumble.
Okay, fine. I said “and after.” Hef never leaves, okay? Look, you don’t want to move Hefner from the Playboy Mansion. The aura that amplifies both financial success and enhanced sexual prowess surrounding the mansion, and, respectively, yourself, would you become the new owner of said property, necessitates the physical vessel of Mr. Hefner to remain within one hundred feet of the circular blood rune in the basement below the Grotto–which, I should add, is not to be painted over by contractors.
Look, the place has its own zoo, and you wanna finagle on why you might have to leave a dead pornographer’s skull under the hot tub? Okay, okay, it’s like this: Did you ever wonder why a single dude can get millions of dollars and have women porking him through his 90’s anyway? That guy had to have made a deal with the Devil, right? Well, let me put it this way YES. That is exactly what he did, the devil is real and Hugh Hefner literally made a deal with him.
Rest assured I take this situation very seriously. There is no greater wound upon this wonderful artistic community than the grim specter of censorship, and our protest of Mr. Olbermann’s presentation could rashly be interpreted as such. But given the audacity of this, forgive me, what I can only call obscenity, flung in the face of the Atlanta theater community, it is impossible to be silent.
Yes? Hello?
Oh hi. I didn’t notice you there. I was just distracted by a complete stranger having the wrong opinions on the internet.
Hey guys! I’m home! Did you miss me? Man, what a great weekend—my first DragonCon ever! I can’t wait to talk about it. My friends back home had so many questions. “How many people showed up?” “Did you see any famous celebrities?” “Did you get any cool souvenirs?” And mostly “isn’t DragonCon next week, you moron?”
All right, gentlemen, let’s cut the crap here. You know why I’m here, I know why I’m here, we both know what I want and we’re making this deal happen. Now I’m sure you’ve got your case all prepared and have an offer ready but before you say anything I am going to point out that this box contains five thousand ladybugs.