The infomercial will be broadcast tonight. It'll consist of two men in shirts with
popped collars screaming at each other.
"BRO!" one will shout.
"BRO!" the other will respond.
"SOMETIMES I DON'T FEEL WHOLLY ALIVE!" the first
one will elaborate.
"I UNDERSTAND YOUR EXISTENTIAL PROBLEM!" the
latter will sympathize.
"WHAT CAN I DO TO ESCAPE THE BLEAKNESS OF
REALITY?"
The two of them will turn to the camera for a short beat
before holding cans of you up.
"DRINK PISSIN' NEEDLES!" they'll shout in unison.
After their shouted announcement the two of them will pound
the cans. A voice-over will begin
fast-talking as they drink deeply of you, taking in your tangy lemon-lime
refreshment, your surprisingly crisp carbonation and your not-FDA-approved
urinary tract infection causing chemical agent that transforms urination from a
normal bodily function to an epic struggle against terrible pain. As the the voice-over fades the voice will
finish its list of effects and side effects, cautiously announcing that:
Pissin' Needles may cause permanent urinary tract
damage. It may not be purchased by
minors. It is not a form of medication
and has no ostensible health properties.
Pissin' Needles will not fill the empty void inside your heart. It will only bring you pain. Pissin' Needles contains some Aspertame. Pissin' Needles is available in stores near
you.
As he finishes the faces of the men will shift from awkward
postured grimaces to collapsing, weepy messes.
These once proud fraternity brothers will lose all traces of their
masculine facades. In their places, you
will see two man-children clutching their groins, tears streaming down their
faces as they wet themselves, crying out in pain at the act of urination. They'll want to stop, they'll be trying to
stop, but thanks to you, they'll be unable to do so. Within hours the CIA will order ten thousand
cases of you. Enjoy your furtive rise to
prominence before you're banned by the Hague.
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