Something In The Way She Moves

Attracts me like no other turgid sack of microbes

Molly,

You drive a minivan? A fucking MINIVAN? No one in a minivan is agile or predatory. There is nothing you could do that says "I've given up" quite as completely as getting behind the wheel of a minivan. No amount of hand-washed linen or blonde wood can redeem a minivan. Do you think Courtney Adamo drives a minivan? If you have to cart a crew of smelly, mewling children to soccer practice, and you can't afford a Range Rover, at least have the discernment to drive a Honda Pilot. Or an F150 if that's what fits your life, but not a minivan, for Chrissakes. 

All my adolescent, celebrity-crush fantasies just went *poof*. Minivan.

Disillusioned

Dear Disillusioned,

Wow! It’s great to hear from someone inside the simulation!

Rest assured, there is nothing that we at Molly Industries care more deeply about than our loyal “customers” (or turgid skin-sacks full of microbes with grandiose “identities” constructed primarily from their consumer purchases). We are 100% committed to keeping your long-term “fantasies” intact, and we won’t rest until you’re absolutely titillated and aroused by the make and model of the machine that “Molly,” an imaginary female-gendered sack of microbes, uses to locomote herself from one retail point of purchase to another. Your feedback means the world to us!

We understand that, from inside the simulation, it’s of upmost importance to you that all female-gendered sacks of microbes, fictional and real, turn you on. When you take your limp old dick into your calloused palm, you need to know for sure that whichever imaginary female-gendered sack of microbes you conjure, she has the imaginary “style” and “class” and “discernment” to get ‘er done! Because you want results, damn it!

And so do we. We want “Molly” to remain securely ensconced among the jackables you treasure the very most, from the firmly-titted cgi superheroes of “Avengers: End Game” to the saucer-eyed nymphs of your latest Anime Cat Girl Pinterest board. We want “Molly” right there among the greats, every single time you crawl into your dank hovel for another hasty spank.

Our marketing team should’ve anticipated that an overly practical, affordable, mainstream, or suburban choice in the realm of consumer vehicles might lead you to feel that “Molly” has “given up” in the same clichéd manner that you imagine other female microbe sacks have “given up,” either by refusing to festoon themselves in ways that speak to your flaccid cock’s unoriginal desires or by refusing to acknowledge the supreme importance of your reductive opinions, aggressively mediocre preferences, and/or recursive thoughts.

We also feel strongly, as you do, that when “Molly” (or any other female microbe sack, imaginary or real) doesn’t manage to jumpstart your saggy old cock quickly, you should share that feedback immediately. In fact, all female microbe sacks require a constantly updated progress report from you personally. Whether it’s their consumer choices, the way they move, or their “eating” and “exercise” and “drinking” habits that make you more or less anxious to stroke your own crestfallen cock vigorously, they need to know about it. Because in high-capitalist “America,” “the customer” always “comes” first!

And when your “fantasies” go poof, that means we’ve failed to arouse you into purchasing those life-changing goods and services that form your core “identity.” Without such purchases, you might as well be dead, rendering billions of helpless microbes homeless, and rendering Molly Industries a tiny bit less profitable.

So, just between “us”…. You’re our absolute favorite man-shaped sack of microbes and there’s nothing “we” want more than to ride your half-limp cock until “we” “come” “so” “hard” “it” “hurts.”

Sincerely,

Ben Shackter

General Manager, Molly Industries

Need much, much more from Molly Industries? Write to askmolly at protonmail.com!