Be Careful What You Click

Henry was the frat’s president. As a result, he got to live in the house year-round, but had to pay whenever school was not in session. It was the start of his final summer break, and he was online shopping for pillows and other small items to help accentuate the household. It was getting a bit late, though, and Henry was getting sleepy. He dozed off for just a second, but was rudely awaken to this statement: “Your Male unit will be processed and sent to you ASAP.”

He looked down, and lo and behold, it was on some sort of slave offshoot of Amazon.

“Fuck!” he said. He said it again when he noticed in bright, bold letters at the top of the page: ALL SALES ARE FINAL. “Shit. I’m going to have a nonreturnable slave.”

A couple days later, his mailman knocked on his door. “Here’s your robot, Henry. Next time, order from somebody a bit less busy.” He chugged a water bottle as Henry lugged the human inside. A note was attached to his navel. “Insert finger into me so that I know who my master is.” Henry tentatively did so, and the presumed robot suddenly became very animated.

“Hello! My name is X4665DHHFD45665. What would you like to call me?”


“Noted. My new name is Gary. How can I assist you today, Master?”

“First off, drop the master shtick. My name is Henry.”

“I will call you Henry then.”

“Do you know what? How well is your interior design?”

“Not too bad. I assisted my spouse in decorating before becoming a Male unit.” Henry then stared at the human, who was waiting for elaboration.

“Oh, um, I bought some pillows and a spread. Can you make my house look nice?”

“Certainly, Henry.” Gary got to work as Henry called his best friend.

“Zekky, I bought a fucking guy.”

“An actual human being?”

“Yes. And I can’t fucking return him because even though I accidentally bought him, all sales are final.”

“How do you…?”

“It’s a long fucking story.”

“So, why’d you call me?”

“You’re my vice president. Should he be considered a fratbro or a maid?”

“Is he hot enough?”

“He’s a bit on the older side, but remarkably fit and chiselled.”

“Then he’s a part of it. He will need an executive position, though. Can he do sexual favours?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Then he’ll be the E-Board fuckboi,” noted Zekky, as he hung up.

“The couch is finished!” announced Gary. Henry went downstairs and saw something out of Architecture Digest’s staged photos, with an immaculate looking couch.

“Wow. That’s really fucking nice. Let’s talk for a little bit.” Henry explained his new role, and Gary started preparing for it wholeheartedly.

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