Page 15 - Foresthill

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Chapter One
The Boy Named Sue,
or Why You Shouldn’t
Pee into a Sock
Settle down kids. Fetch me some fresh ice while I top off my J.D. Comfy?
Time for a true crime bedtime story. What’s that, you asked? Certainly
it’s true, you’ll see. You can’t make stuff like this up!
Once upon a time there lived in San Francisco a young man named
Sue. She wasn’t born with that name, but she used it professionally.
Sue was financing her sex change operation by selling her body to
strangers. She’d surgically acquired the most bodacious set of Ta-Tas
you’ve ever seen, but she still retained her original equipment plumb-
ing. Sue had long black hair, brown eyes, was 6 feet tall, 160 lbs.;
and on this occasion was dressed to the nines in a lovely blue frock,
humongous (men’s 12) sling back pumps, and tastefully understated
makeup (including a good hypoallergenic foundation color matched
for her skin tone). Sue’s business manager drove up in a hot pink
mid-’80s Caddy, and remarked that Sue looked mighty fine today.
Blushing, Sue remarked that the pimp cut quite the figure himself.
The pimp made Sue an indecent proposal: If Sue would accompany
him to Reno, they would be wed. If no one wised up that Sue was
born a fella, Sue was to receive a $1000 bonus. The pimp would ac-
quire bragging rights, raising Sue’s fair market value and increasing
the pimp’s wealth. $1000 is a sizable down payment to remove O.E.
(Original Equipment) plumbing, so Sue took the pimp up on the offer.
Sue slid in next to the pimp, and the happy couple made their way
towards Reno.