Congratulations Philanderer!

There’s no denying it: you love the shit out of the ladies. You love all their lady parts: their boobies, their va-jay-jays, their bumbums. You even love their pee holes, which, as you are always quick to point out, are separate from their va-jay-jays. But not everyone knows it.

So today, after totaling making it with the boss lady that you sometimes put your peener in (your Aunt Carla, but she’s like a family friend aunt, not a blood relative, so it’s cool) you’re going to go out into the quad of the college campus where you live and, on a megaphone, announce how much you love the ladies to the world.

“I LOVE THEIR SKIN!” your voice will boom. “IT’S REALLY SMOOTH, EVEN WITHOUT MAKEUP USUALLY. LIKE SMOOTHER THAN A GUY’S, EVEN WHEN THE GIRL HAS PIMPLES.”

People will be passing you by for the most part, but as you go on they’ll clump together, stop, and listen.

“I LIKE HOW THEY SMELL,” you’ll declare. “EVEN WHEN THEY SMELL KIND OF BAD IT’S STILL SORT OF NICE!”

At this point young women will start smiling at you. They’ll start checking twitter on their i-phones to see if they can follow you and a select few will begin rubbing their crotches sensually as they listen. But it won’t all be roses. Their boyfriends will, to a man, begin cracking their knuckles and looking at you like they want to beat you up.

“THEIR LIPS ARE REALLY SOFT!” you’ll whisper into the megaphone, an awkward half boner surging into your pants. “I KIND OF WANT TO KISS EVERY GIRL AT LEAST ONCE TO MAKE SURE THAT ONE’S TRUE FOR EVERYONE, SINCE I CAN’T ALWAYS TELL BY LOOKING.”

At this point the women will lose all composure and mob you, grabbing your limbs and tearing your clothes off. The women, and by this we mean the entire college campus surrounding you, will then take turns having sex with you while their boyfriends look on, upset and perplexed. Each girl will make sure that, while you’re inside of her, she takes the time to kiss you and whisper her name in your ear softly, so that only you can hear it. Some of the girls will whisper their True Names, the names you can use to capture their souls in gemstones.

Their boyfriends will all consider beating you up, but they’ll fear a mass collective reprisal from their ladies, so they’ll decide that that probably isn’t the best idea. After all, they can’t all be dumped by their girlfriends for you, and if they freak out all jealous-like they’ll almost certainly be dumped at least a little.

When the orgy ends you’ll squeak “Thank you,” into the megaphone, let it ring out in the courtyard and the ladies will tweet about how much fun they had. You’ll lay there on your back a good long while, thinking about what just happened, about the walk back to your dorm room and just what you’re going to tell Aunt Carla about what you did today.

Congratulations Philanderer!