"The Sex Worker"

I got the call for a big job, that if I got my ass over there on time it would be
worth my while.  I quick pulled my best negligee from the hamper, splashed it
with Giorgio and slipped it on.  I rubbed away a tiny cumstain with a washcloth,
then slipped on a miniskirt and blouse and darted down for a cab.

The key was at the desk, and I let myself in, stripped down and tousled my hair,
then lay on the bed waiting.  It had to be less than a minute, the lock clicked
open.  He stepped in, wearing a black tux and white silk scarf, and the door
closed behind him.  Then he turned around, and held his cane parallel to the
floor in both hooves, looking to some point in the distance. He definitely wasn't
talking to me:

"Today, I mastered capital markets, dominated venture financing, cornered
commodity puts, and goddamn it, I've got that kike Greenspan by the balls. I
won't let go!."

He launched into some tap-dance routines, twirled a few times, and tipped off his
tophat with his cane.  It rolled down his back and leg.  He kicked it in the air,
and caught it in his hoof.

"And now, I need some 'tang!"  I swallowed.  "But first . . ."

He reached around and unbuttoned the back door of his slacks, and out popped his
wiggly, squiggly, pink-piggy tail.  He jumped high into the air and kicked his
legs out, and boing, boing, began bouncing on his tail, squealing and giggling
gaily.  He reached into his coat pocket.

"I pull out my bowling pins--one, two, three, It's a Juggling Piggy Jamboree!"

And sure enough, The Piggy juggled the bowling pins, bouncing up and down the
while.

Out came several colored hoops, which The Piggy twirled 'round his hips and all
his legs as he bounced.

"Some rings are yellow, Some rings are blue, Some rings spin around my shoe."

Squeaking in piggy boing-boing delight, he produced stacks of dishes while in
piggy flight.

"I can balance the plates on my snout and hands. I can sure do it," sang this
Piggy Man.

God, could he ever do it.