Had this conversation today at work when no one else was around:
“Eric, I hope you won’t think I’m too weird for asking…”
“Oh, please.”
“I’ve been noticing that I’m actually hoping for perverse things to happen in these tapes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, like if a couple in the movie owns a dog, whenever they start fucking, I keep hoping that the dog will jump up on the bed and start licking the guy’s balls. Or if an actress looks particularly young, I keep saying to myself, ‘Please, God, please let her say she’s twelve.’”
“It’s not just you. I get that too.”
“Well, I mean, I was just wondering if this job is, like, TOTALLY twisting my values or whatever.”
“No, Billy. You’re just praying for all this to end.”
“Thanks.”
Silence.
“Eric?”
“Yeah?”
“You like it when I talk dirty, don’tcha, bitch?”
“Give it to me, Daddy. I want it. I need it. Ooh, Daddy, it’s so BIG! Do it, Do It, DO IT!”
“Too far.”
“Sorry.”
“Whore.”
“Flatterer.”
