Perched atop your cheap wooden stool in the cheap wooden booth that barely protects you from the frigid, stinging wind that tears across the parking lot in which you work, you spot a black Taurus making its way slowly around the outer edge of the lot. You know immediately what’s happening – they’re looking for a way out without paying – and you can hardly contain your excitement over the coming opportunity to use the parking lot’s new security system.
Sure enough, the sedan works its way around to the only exit and, seeing that there are apparently no tire spikes, guns it for the exit.
You effortlessly press the button labeled Red Button and the new security system deploys. A giant stainless steel phallus springs up from its spot in the pavement and forms a one-spear pike line against the oncoming cavalry charge of the Ford Taurus.
The driver, staring down the barrel of the shiny metal love gun, slams on his brakes, slowing rapidly and sending the piercing squeal of his tires into your ears.. It is too late. The monolithic dick is upon him, but only slightly so. It penetrates the intake grill just a few inches and the colliding steel gives of a metallic squeal of ecstasy.
The driver steps out of the Taurus and stands in front of his car, then turns to you with a completely bewildered expression of disbelief.
You give a devilish smile and ask, “Was it good for you, too?”