Topic #5: Is this a mob scam that will somehow result in the death of Albus Dumbledore and maybe everybody else including DiRossi and Buffalo Bill? Escalante pretends he isn't curious -- "What do I know? I'm from Peru!" -- but I don't buy it.
BACK TO YOU, BOB
I guess due to the potion that they slipped him, or just the fact that they are super freaky and scary and gross ladies, Lonnie's penis cannot become erect. Ever resourceful, the women employ a bewildering and fast-moving array of techniques, including: Playing with their scary nipples, playing with his nipples, sticking things in his anus, taking out their dentures to fellate him, and -- most surprisingly -- bashing his head in with something heavy. Ah, it would seem sex was not their only aim, tonight.
Dawson Leery's Mother: Bashing his head in.
Lonnie: "Why are you hitting me with such heavy things? In my head?"
Other Lady: "Suck my titty! Suck my titty! Suck my titty!"
Dawson Leery's Mother: Continues bashing his head in while he tries, quixotically, both to fuck the lady with his flaccid penis, and also to suck the proffered 'titty,' all the while losing consciousness and beginning to bleed from his scalp.
Lonnie: "I think it's safe to say I have lost the thread of what's required of me in this situation."
Ladies, while bashing: "What we insured! You moron! Was your life!"
Lonnie, still not clear on what's up: "Fuck, man. Are you trying to kill me?"
Ladies: "You think you can double-cross people? Or lie on your word and your promises? Like our Muslim President from Kenya?"
I fear this situation is escalating to a level for which Lonnie was singularly unprepared.
Lonnie: "I think you fractured my skull in places! That is neither sporting nor does it serve an aphrodisiac function!"
Dawson Leery's Mom: "You fucking lying fag scumbag! Lynette, duck down!"
Eventually Lonnie goes toppling through the window, taking Lynette with him, just ass over teakettle, and Dawson's Mom comes running through the broken glass to continue hitting him in the head. It is astonishing, the kinds of things that can happen.
Eventually Lonnie gets away, somehow, in his underwear, covered in contusions, a fleshy pulp where his pleasant face once was. The naked ladies run, but not fast enough. I hope that we have not seen the last of them. Also, though, I hope that we have seen the last of them. My nerves!