I found it hard to find fault with them,

I found it hard to find fault with them, but that didn’t absolve them of their responsibility. A quick check of my mental inventory listed the likeliest location of my missing

chastity belt. It was of little use these days, but the sentimental value was immense. My father made it for me when I was 12; fashioned it out of chicken wire, duct tape and

bath salts. The awkward part was when my dad put the chastity belt on me. I was 12, I could do it. But he said, "If you want something done right, you let Daddy do it." Once it was

actually illegal to do this sort of thing, but now it's merely frowned upon. I felt pretty after my bath but that blasted chastity belt was rubbing

air time on CNN. They always preferred the gun metal gray chastity belts. My chromed one seemed to intimidate them. I always felt like a Transformer with it on.

Not because of my metal exterior, but because of the sexless life it gives me. Then again, Megatron probably has lots of sex. In fact, one time Megatron and

a steel dustbin had such noisy clanking sex that the neighbours called the police. They were brought before a magistrate for Disturbing the Peace. Megaton barely controlled his bri

sket he'd eaten for lunch, so disgusted was he at the sight & smell of the dustbin coitus he'd just engaged in. The magistrate confronted Megatron & his partner, sentencing them

to imprisonment on the planet Uranus where they spent the rest of their lives working as receptionists, answering service bell chimes at a tourist hotel, waiting for an happy end.