Congratulations on Masturbating to the Film Desperado!

Tomorrow you (and by you I mean Don Juan Carlos, the world’s greatest Antonio Banderas impersonator) will fasten a belt around your neck and jerk it while you watch Antonio Banderas shoot bad guys and simulate sex with Salma Hayek. Nothing new, this is a nightly ritual for you now.

Around halfway through the film you’re going to pull the belt too tight and you’ll begin to suffocate. You’d be really angry but just before you lose consciousness you’re going to climax, and it’s going to be the bee’s knees. Luckily this act will lead to all of your muscles relaxing and you’ll somehow avoid death and simply fall into a coma.

Your maid will discover you and believe that you have (as you frequently claim you intended to do) kidnapped Antonio Banderas and tied him to your bed so you can watch him masturbate and die while you masturbate in order to absorb his power.

Normally she simply laughs and says “Oh, Mister Gay,” but when she finds you like this she’s going to flip shit, whip out her cell and call 911. She’ll start screaming at the operator in rapid Spanish and it’ll be almost two hours before anyone gets to you. By then the coma will have become a long term affair.

Science doesn’t want us to tell you this, but the part of your brain that remembers how to wake up is a bit of a pussy. It gives up and dies if you give it the slightest little excuse. So its going to do just that for you and you’re going to be trapped that way for months.

While in your coma like state you’ll be visited by many of your adoring fans (roughly half of whom will also take sexual advantage of you) but none of these guests will rouse you in the slightest. None of them, that is, until Antonio Banderas himself stops by.

He will arrive in true style, riding in an olde tymie carriage drawn by giant fire breathing gila monsters. He will be wearing a velour cloak and tuxedo made from the skins of pandas. Under it all will be a Hanes undershirt (of course).

Antonio Banderas will step into your room and, with a single gesture, order the dozen or so occupants lined up to fuck you to leave. They’ll hurry out, star-struck even as they try to pull up their trousers. They’ll whisper to each other, was that really THE Antonio Banderas?

Then he’ll walk over and stroke your cheek gently, admiring your resemblance to him. After a minute or two of this he’ll plant a ginger kiss on your lip and take his turn banging you silly.

He’ll be nice about it, though, giving you a reach around and everything (he really is a class act) and when the two of you finally reach simultaneous orgasm the part of your brain that controls not being a pussy and waking up is going to go “whoa” and make your eyes flutter open.

For a moment your vision will be out of focus, but after only a second you’ll find yourself gazing into his eyes, your hearts beating as one. As he turns soft inside you you’ll smile and say “Hello, my friend.”

Thus will begin your lengthy stage tour and whirlwind romance. And none of it would’ve happened if you just masturbated with Lubriderm and your imagination instead of various improvised self-strangulation implements.

So congratulations on masturbating to the film Desperado. It truly was a brilliant career move.