I, like many men throughout the world, wore my Total Recall VHS tape out because of the constant rewinding to the tri-boobed alien. It was a fantasy that caused the launder of many sheets through the years, but it was always firmly tucked away into the ream of fantasy…until Jasmine Tridevil.
When I heard that this fantasy of my younger days could possibly be a reality thanks to a plastic surgeon’s complete lack of scruples and one woman’s serious fame hunger, I was both disturbed and mystified. (Ok, I was mostly just really horny.)
Just when I had gotten out the lube and a few fresh socks for some tri-tittied alone time, I read that this three-breasted vixen had duped one over on us. Apparently, some lost luggage of Alicia Jasmine Hessler, a.k.a. Tri-boob the Magnificent, contained triple breast prosthesis. NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please, say it ain’t so champ. Say it ain’t so.
I wept for not only the inevitable adult film career now ruined thanks to a few pounds of latex or the many hours of lubricated enjoyment lost by the recent revelation, but also the fact that my trust of the third boob was broken. If you can’t trust a three-boobed woman, then whom can you trust in this crazy mixed up world.
I put away the lube and rerolled my socks now bereft of my night of pleasure, but before I cried myself to sleep I came to a conclusion. Much like first alien contact and sentient artificial intelligence, humanity just isn’t ready for women with three boobs. Where would it stop?
Soon, we’d see quad-tits and septuptits plastered all over television and our computer screens. Reality shows would pop up like “Jon and Kate Plus 8-breasts” and “Nip/Tuck Dynasty.” Movie stars with less than three breasts would be the freaks of the industry and they would add a whole new Oscar for “best supporting bra-straps.”
Eventually, a hundred years from now when giant sentient breasts have taken over the Earth, a lone man would be sent back in time to save humanity, but an evil 99-breasted assassin would be brought back in time as well.
With so much weight pulling The Nippleator down, instead of “I’ll be back,” it will be “Ow, my back.” Yes, we’re not ready for the extra boob, and its very existence could have signaled the end of civilization as we know it.
Thankfully all is not lost, technology has advanced to the point that I have “Total Recall” on DVD and on my computer. See you soon miss three-boobed alien of my dreams.