"Sorry," you say, jokingly, "but I'd rather polish dildos than risk getting eaten."

Lisa smirks. "Sorry to hear that," she says, in sing-song.

Lisa grabs you, drags you out of the bedroom, and hurls you into her basement, where you crash into a pile of dildos.

"Start scrubbin'," she calls. "If those dildos are clean enough to lick whipped-cream off of, I'm gonna shit in your mouth when I get back from town."

"Wait!" you shout. "I thought you were joking! I thought you were JOKIIIIING!!!"

Lisa slams the basement door shut.

You spend the rest of your life as Lisa's dildo-polishing bitch, all because you were too much of a pussy to go to town with her and because you were unable to determine that she was not joking.

THE END.