Greetings. I'm Donald Reisfeld. Perhaps you have seen me. I am employed in the business-machine department at Office Depot. However, what you may not realize is that I also happen to be CAPTIVATED WITH THE PERVERSE.
Would you care for me to relate the very real stories of the many PERVERSIONS I commit during the common day? Of course you would. For example, this very morning I rose from my enshrouded, coffin-shaped bunk bed and cursed the rising sun for its insolence. Acknowledging my mother with a dismissive grunt, I passed the kitchen and descended the basement stairs to my sanctum sanctorum, the LAIR OF SATAN-- my wicked altar lodged between the dryer and the washer, brimming with a truly horrific array of PERVERSITIES.
As I knelt naked on the unfinished cement, I entreated the Dark Prince to cross over, CROSS OVER and infect every corner of this world with his dripping pestilence!
After folding some laundry and devouring a perverse breakfast of blood sausage, calf's neck, and Ovaltine, I brushed my teeth, carefully tended my goatee extension, and donned my Office Depot uniform. HOWEVER, underneath my Hagar slacks, I chose to wear women's undergarments! Why? Because it is PERVERSE.
In my Volkswagon Golf (perversely adorned with a "Cursed Be" bumper sticker), I traveled to that kindergarten of the damned, Office Depot. As I entered, Mrs. Ryan, a 67-year-old cash-register operator, wished me "good morning" to which I cleverly replied "Your 'goodness' is nothing more than an illusion--a comforting fable that your people tell themselves so they might get through the day without screaming." Mrs. Ryan stared, petrified, her fragile mind unraveling in the presence of one who so freely flaunts social convention! Oh, sweet perversity, never hast thou failed me!
As usual, my workplace throbbed with the tedium of selling fax machines and calculators. What deviltry, what acts of fiendish defiance will serve to amuse me on this day? Shall I set all the screensavers to display three-dimensional, inverted pentagrams? Invoke the many names of Hecate, Goddess of Magick over the loudspeaker?! Punch out "LOOSE" or "BOOBS" on the LED displays of the adding machines? Or perhaps I shall use the demo copier to produce yet another copy of my autobiography, Carpe Nocturn! The Perverse Devilish Pleasures of Donald Reisfeld.
O vile deviance! O, sweet everlasting perversion! I commit myself into thine arms! Together we shall ensnare these hollow mortals in the nightmarish machinations of my perverted whims! After work, I stopped off at Carl's Jr. for dinner and then went home to look on the Internet for a girlfriend--a very perverted one.