Everything about you screams sexy, from your perfectly
formed fuzzy cartoon boobs to your pouty, exaggerated lips to your giant
hyper-expressive, too-large eyes. If you
were a person, we'd be on you like stink on a hog, to use an offensive, sexist,
and normally inappropriate phrase, but you're not a person. You're a cartoon forest animal, one of the
sexy ones, similar to the hallucinations we mentioned on Monday. But unlike the hallucinations we mentioned on
Monday, you're not a hallucination. You're
real, and you're moving from the woods of Vermont to New York City this
Saturday.
As soon as you get off the bus, you're gonna be real popular
real quick. A modeling agent will
approach you (modeling agents spend most of their time hanging out near
Greyhound stations) and sign you up for a contract immediately. By the end of the day you'll be on the front
cover of "Fetishes No One is Really Comfortable With," pouting at the
world with those big cartoon eyes. It'll
be your first day in the big city and, hands down, your best.
Over the next few weeks you'll acquire basic life skills,
learning English, figuring out how money works, berating people in the service
industry, and so on. Before you know it,
you'll be hopping from coke party to coke party, trading sexual favors for
photo shoots and drugs, developing a pretty serious drinking problem and losing
all the lessons about bestial grace and fury that the forest imbued on you.
We'd claim that it's tragic, but the reality is that you'll
be self-aware for the first time in your entire existence, so it's actually a
pretty even trade. Sure, you'll end up
blowing some creepy guys with mustaches for reasons that, later in your life,
will seem patently ridiculous, but when all is said and done you'll be rich as
fuck. Even if you never work again,
you'll be set for life. Not bad for a
sexualized cartoon beaver.
Congratulations Sultry Forest Animal!
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