Page 17 - Billy Graham in Heaven

10 Billy Graham's Glorious Jam
literally.
“Get lost,” Jake said, though he didn’t move as she
approached. A vein began to throb insistently on the left side of his forehead.
“So you’re the magnificent gentleman Newt has been telling me about,” purred Catwoman, lifting her slender arms to give Jake a hug — or slash his throat.
Newt pressed another button. Catwoman changed to Pfeiffer herself in one of the precariously low-cut Victorian dresses she wore in Dangerous Liaisons. A wardrobe malfunction occurred causing her left breast to spill out. She daintily restored it to its sequestering cup.
“Turn it off!” demanded Jake, scanning the door fearfully. “If Cathy saw me with porn speks she’d never marry me. You don’t want to ruin my one chance for happiness do you?”
Then Jake spied Newt’s spek holder. “What else do you have there?”
“Oh, Marilyn Monroe, Jane Fonda and all five of Charlie’s Angels,” gloated Newt.
“Let’s stick to good ole humanoids,” begged Jake. “Cathy doesn’t mind so much if I ogle a woman in person but she really gets angry at my ogling artificial ones.”
“What you need is to join the All or Nothing Dating Service,” said Newt laughing, “and stop chasing that frigid Cathy. They have about a fifty percent serious relationship rate.” He turned off the Spectrom and Pfeiffer vanished.
“Never ever,” Jake insisted. “It’s just another holographic face of old timey pornography. Don’t even try to change the subject with sex. Alcoholics Anonymous and you is the issue.”