True Story©... Return of the Moose

 

    I tried to make a pr0no once…
No, not acting, but producing. I mean, I’mma be frank, I don’t even think that women I HAVE had sex with before are trying to see me fuckin’ even if I HAVE lost 104 pounds since the last time I sexed anyone other than then-pre-Wife Person™ Wife Person™ and that is just me being honest with myself.
Anywho, you can read about that epic-assed failure here if you missed it last year and return to me when you’re done.

    The funniest thing happened after that… Wife Person™ REFUSED to speak to or hear tell of the daily humorous conversations I have with Mr. Ssippi for almost FOUR MONTHS after that ordeal, until he came to town and took us out to eat for my birthday in the summer. They actually got along quite well and she especially loved Giant Nephew™ and he loved her, so any previous strife was all on me and not on Ssip.

    No worries or surprises, of course, are there when I get a call or an especially long text about that weekend in Atlanta. The conversations are ALWAYS humorous, like to the point where I am doubled over laughing at my own damned stupidity. Last week, instead of a text, I received a phonecall…

Me: “Pool room.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Heh, what’s up man?”

Me: “A lot of nothing, you rarely call. What’s shakin’?”

Mr. Ssippi: “This would have been far too much to text. Besides, the laughs might be better over a call and not text.”

Me: “Oh shit… What have we here?”

Mr. Ssippi: “You remember when you came down last March and we tried to produce that adult film?”

Me: “My wife has me in this odd position of not being able to discuss it but also not allowing me to forget it.”

Mr. Ssippi: “How in the hell does that work?”

Me: “WITCHCRAFT!”

Mr. Ssippi: “Ha!”

Me: “So yeah, I remember it but I am not supposed to.”

Mr. Ssippi: “I’m done questioning that.”

Me: “Thanks… So what’s up?”

Mr. Ssippi: “Well ol’ dude who we tried to get to do the shoot, he–…”

Me: “… THAT motherfucker.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Yeah. Well he said he was unable to ‘perform’ after that because the moment kept replaying in his mind any time he was in even a minorly similar situation.”

Me: “… meaning any time he may so attempt to make the sex.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Bingo.”

Me: “Well I hope that wasn’t his only revenue stream.”

Mr. Ssippi: “It was his most lucrative one.”

Me: “This is OBJECTIVELY hilarious.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Damn yeah it is.”

Me: “So what does this have to do with us?”

Mr. Ssippi: “Well he has had to see a therapist and–…”

Me: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Mr. Ssippi: “He has been seeing a therapist and–…”

Me: “Can you imagine having to see a therapist because you think of a moose every time your dick gets hard?”

Mr. Ssippi: “Well when you put it like that, this is the funniest shit I have heard in weeks.”

Me: “So again… What this gotta do with us?”

Mr. Ssippi: “His therapist has apparently gotten him to a point where he has to stand up to and face his fear.”

Me: “And since ol’ girl came from here with me, it is on us – moreso me – to locate her and he takes another stab at it.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Pun intended?”

Me: “Indeed.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Heh. But yeah, he wanted to know if I knew how to contact her.”

Me: “I’m not comfortable just throwing out people’s numbers like that.”

Mr. Ssippi: “I dig it.”

Me: “And I am ESPECIALLY worried that I might have never had the game to talk her into spinning the block on that disaster.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Didn’t even think about it like that.”

Me: “Lemme see if I didn’t delete the DM thread and take it from there.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Sounds good.”

Me: “Text me his number and I will take it from there.”

Mr. Ssippi: “Bet.”

    Whoo, boy… This is probably about to get SUPER ugly.
I dug through the Moe Phillips burner phone and the there-contained dating apps in hopes that she hadn’t deleted her profile. I lucked up and she was still there. I sent her a message, first apologizing for what had gone down and how it went over. I explained what the guy’s issue had been and that he had, after therapy, been made willing to at least attempt to give it another go and that he BEGGED that she help him get his thing back together to remain active in the business.
Get this, y’all… She was WITH IT!

    I had some time off of work for several scheduled doctor’s visits on Friday and now that Wife Person™ knows and likes Mr. and Mrs. Ssippi, she was okay with me making the trip without her this time. I picked the girl up and headed on down to Decatur to meet the Ssippi family. We had already arranged use of the same house from the first attempt to shoot on Saturday so we just kinda chilled at their house and I cooked in their kitchen for them to thank them for their hospitality.


    Saturday comes and we head on over to the big house with all the cameras ready to roll the footage. Good test results exchanged and confirmed, all agreements signed and all that, they would both be uploading this to their own monetized feeds and not taking any money from one another and would be paying me and Ssippi for linking it up. We good, everything is all good right?

    We start the shoot with a bunch of pictures, followed by them getting comfortable on a large chaise and beginning to do the do. They went through the motions of warmup and getting things ready for action so as to make the interaction look as naturally-developed as possible. Now, it is time for BIDNESS! Things started off easy, he was comfortable doing the needful and she was not vocal or anything weird or different…
… until…
About 5 minutes in, I am going to infer that she enjoyed what was happening because dammit out came the moose noises!

FUCK!!!

    He TRIED to sex past the moose noises, but he slowed down when they first began, then he looked around and me and the Ssippis before hopping off of her and running out of the room crying.

Me: “MY MONEY!!!”

Mr. Ssippi: “Phillip!”

This (literal, sometimes) motherfucker…
I found him in the garden in the back next to a birdfeeder crying like a 9 year-old who just come outside and found his bike had been stolen.

Me: “Look, I did you the favor of setting this shit back up. Now you done fucked up my name twice. You need to either call your therapist and get this scene done, or YOU go in there and explain in excruciating detail what your issue is and hope she doesn’t shank you.”

    To be frank, I SERIOUSLY thought he would at least ATTEMPT to salvage the shoot. Instead, this bastard KNEW SIGN LANGUAGE and talked it out with her! I don’t know ASL, but context clues tell me that she at least accepted his apology. After that, they reached an agreement to simply post the images and not the video and just monetize that. At least there’s that, I guess.

I will NOT be compelled to try this shit again.