You cross the street and enter that fabulous twenty-four hour emporium known as Christy's.
Buddy is there working the counter.
You head over to the donut section and start picking out donuts.
Pretty soon you've got too many to fit in those ridiculously small bags they have below the donut area.
So you get an idea.
Pulling the bottom of your t-shirt outward to make a sort of pouch, you start shovelling on the donuts. When your makeshift pouch if filled to capacity, you pile on a good deal more.
When you've got an impressive mountain of them piled there in front of you, you carefully bring them over to the counter.
With the donuts piled this high, however, a few of them slip off along the way. Sadly, to go back for them is impossible at this point without losing them all.
You wait patiently in the long check-out line, occasionally eyeing the latest issue of Hot & Fat kept mostly-covered in the behind-the-counter magazine rack.
When you finally reach the front of the line, you dump all the donuts onto the counter.
"Woah, I didn't recognize you at first, Brad..." says Buddy. "You shave your head?"
"No," you say sadly. "All my hair fell out."
"Sucks, dude!" says Buddy. "Mine started falling out when I was eighteen. I was gonna use minoxidil, but I heard it makes your cock shrink."
You're barely listening to Buddy as you hungrily eye your donuts.
"What'd he tell you?" you ask him.
"Hunh?" says Buddy. "What'd who tell me?"
"Your cock shrink."
Buddy sighs.
"He said I shouldn't let morons like Brad in the store anymore. ...You want a bag for these?"
"Yeah, uh, thanks," you say.
Buddy bags your impressive mountain of donuts into one jumbo bag.
"OK," says Buddy. "That's tweny-six dollars and twelve cents."
You reach into the back of your underpants for your wallet.
Uh-oh.
It's not there!
This really isn't your day.
You really want
those donuts, though.