At first, you might glance at this question and think, “Ha, ha. That’s so funny.” But then by the second glance, instead of just reading the words, you’ll find yourself picturing what they mean and it won’t be so goddam funny anymore. Because in the flash of that mental image, you’ll see yourself, crammed in the middle of a Hello-Dolly and a Price-Is-Right sandwich. Almost 175 years of ready-and-willing sweaty heaps of flesh will be rendezvousing with your privates (you might as well start calling them your ”publics” after the manhandling these two will dish out). But luckily, it’ll be a secret only the three of you will share. Unless the video gets out. (Plus, Carol talks — if you know what I mean — when she drinks.) And when you get paid the million dollars for taking part in this ménage à old, (it’s hard to say what the worst part was, but it was probably definitely when he he shouted ”Oh God! I’m…about…to…come on down!”), you’ll be rich. And a real skittish shell of your former self. Because you will have gone there. And that’s fucked up, son.

Me, I’m saying no. Cheap sex for money might sound easy but this little trauma-fest is eeew.