Jim could barely contain his excitement.
“Froget shaving,” he said to the fogged over face looking back at him in the mirror, putting down his razor and splashing away the shaving cream from the unshaved half of his face.
He grabbed the package from the counter and took a seat on the toilet in case his over excited bowels decided to give out on him at the moment he laid hands on the holy water.
“Well life, prepare to be slapped,” he said to the air, which he also mockingly slapped at.
He opened the package and rummaged through the layers of bubble wrap. I’ll need to remember to pop all of these later he thought to himself, but for now I want my holy water.
Before he reached the bottle itself, Jim disrobed and sat back down on the toilet, ready to shower himself with the elixir that would transform him from a mundane, white collar worker with few prospects to what he assumed would be a superhero of sorts—maybe not able to fly or shoot lasers out of his eyes per se, but still an above-average man.
Sitting nude, he fished his hand under the final layer of bubble wrap, found the bottle, and grasped it tightly. He waited for the strength to start flowing in to his hand but didn’t feel it immediately. He grasped tighter and still felt nothing. Too eager to wait any longer, he pulled it violently out of the box and held the bottle high above his head, being sure to shield his eyes from the glow he knew must be coming from the bottle.
Then slowly, he opened his eyes.
“What the?” he asked his bathrobe. “That son of a shooter didn’t even bother to take the old labels off.”
The label read: Kama Sutra Massage Oil—a hint of rose pedals that will keep you and your partner fresh through the night
Even more insultingly, he had failed to scratch the price tag of sufficiently. It read: $4.99.
The number on the invoice buried amongst the bubble wrap carried significantly more weight. As expected, the bill for the holy water came to over one thousand dollars.
“Oh this is just wonderful,” he said to the shower curtain before throwing punches at it because it was the only object close enough to him for him to physically violate.
Then standing up, still naked, but not worried about loosing his bowels all over the bathroom, he bellowed a bellow that he hoped Reverend Jack could hear:
“I already have all the sexual potency I need! It was the luck with the ladies I needed! I’m coming to get you Reverend Jack. And I’m coming hard.”
But first he had a little massaging to do. When life gives you apples, you make apple pie he thought, locking the bathroom door, squeezing out a little of the lotion, and taking a little him time.
“First thing in the morning Reverend Jack. I’ll be seeing you by dinner time.”