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[Part II -- Click here for Part I]
Lance unscrewed the cap on the large tub of paste. Spooning out a fat dollop, he immediately fashioned it into a completely convincing diamond.
"Wow," he said, "I can't believe how easy it is to make diamonds out of paste. This is cinchy! Too bad I wasted all that money on this vice-mounted magnifying glass and this set of custom chrome tweezers."
After fashioning several diamonds in each of the most popular cuts (round, square, triangle and uterus), Lance's fingers were covered in the white, sticky mess. He stuck his tongue out and licked the tip of his pinky.
"Mmmm, just like in kindergarden," he thought, remembering fondly his youthful predilection for 'swallowing paste'.
"Now, all's I have to do is sell this junk to that shifty kike Rogen, and I'll have enough capital to bring my other, non-paste items, to market."
He quickly changed into his Hasidic Jew disguise, probably.
Then, because he had spent 7/8 of his life in prison, Lance gently nudged each of the diamonds up his ass, though a brown bag or something would have sufficed. The sharp edges of the diamonds produced a not unpleasant tingle at the base of his spine, not dissimilar to the initial twinges certain opiates produce in the novitiati.
"Oh man," he groaned as walked up the basement stairs (which was really the weirdest part, because in the parallel world he inhabited, basements weren't 'all that cool' a thing to have), "These hardened paste diamonds are shifting around in my rectum like a handful of tiny, pointy ben-wa balls."
Lance's body began to shudder uncontrollably. He woke up. That shifty kike Rogen was shaking him.
Fuck. It had all been a dream, and Lance was still manacled face down to the iron frame bed in Rogen's dreidel-shaped dungeon.
"Wake up, my boy," hissed Rogen, rattling a small yellow envelope in Lance's face. "I have a deposit to make."
Rogen squeezed the heavy-bond envelope open and shook its contents into his sweaty palm, held trembling before Lance's eyes: 7 four-carat, brilliant cut diamonds.
"What's the story, bar mitzvah-head?" said Lance, mustering some false bravado. "You suck off the entire De Beers family?"
"Yes. Quite," returned Rogen, embarrassed that he didn't understand the reference.
They shared a good ironic laugh together, the type of laugh that Gene Hackman enjoys with his arch-enemy in any given film.
Date Written: December 20, 2002
Average Vote: 5