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> Tangent #52: Mock Photography - Eat The Finger
Here is the first in my series of Mock Photography.


And now a totally bizarre story I made up to go with the pic. Enjoy!

It was Bill's big chance. FINALLY, after crawling up the corporate ladder one humiliating rung after another, he found himself with the opportunity of meeting the big man himself, Mr. Jonathan Bottoms, founder and CEO of the largest foot deodorizer company in eastern Los Angeles (where Bill had worked for over 17 years now).

No one except for the most upper of the upper echelon ever gets to see, let alone meet and talk to, Mr. Bottoms. He is not one to mingle with the grunts and workers. A man of great money, power, and prestige, yet little is really known about him. Rumors circulate amongst the middle management, yet none of them can tell you if rumor is true. A giant 20' by 20' portrait hanging from the open atrium (painted by Thomas Kinkade -- painter of light) is the closest anyone working middle-management (and below) ever has of seeing him.

Bill had a dream. Beginning as a "test sniffer" at the age of 13, he worked his way up slowly through the years until he finally became "Assistant to the Assistant of the Co-Manager of Powder Consistency".

While for most people, this would be a DREAM job, Bill however was not satisfied. His thoughts would daily day-drift away: visions of BIG MONEY, BIG CARS, BIG PROMOTION and BIG FEET always pushing away from the simple satisfaction of his life now. He wanted MORE!!!

But, he was STUCK!!! There was no way up into the top positions of the company. These were the hand-picked and select. As the saying went throughout the cubicles, "If you want to get to the top, you have to go through the Bottoms."

With a plate full of luck and a side bowl of fate (add a mint of meandering), Bill happened upon information that Mr. Jonathan Bottoms himself would be at a big well-ta-do artsy and wine bash being held in up in the hills.

Bill KNEW he must crash the party -- no matter what happens -- this is his BIG CHANCE!

During the day of the party, Bill was able to dress himself as small Rastafarian fruit vendor and snuck unsuspected into the big shindig.

Hiding behind some bushes, he quickly took off his disguise and slipped into his suit that he had buried on the premises the night before. Wiping some dirt remnants of his shoulder, he took his shaking hand and pushed away some leaves to peer into the soiree.

There he stood: just off to the left of the living cheese sculpture -- Mr. Jonathan Bottoms. Bill could tell because he had memorized every little line, crack, and dimple of that massive portrait he walked past everyday.

Taking a breath, then another, Bill stood up straight and forced himself out into the well-dressed crowd. Striding confidently up to Mr. Bottoms, Bill put out his hand and with a twinkled smile said:



Bill: Ah, Mr. Bottoms. I see you are doing well.

[Bill firmly grasps Mr. Bottoms' right hand and begins to shake it firmly and vigorously, not realizing that Mr. Bottoms was in fact holding a full wine glass in that exact hand. Not wanting to look foolish, Bill lets go, waits for the wine to stop sloshing around in the glass, leaving small, wet, winey drop on his shoes and then says:]

Bill: Ohhh... uh...

[Think Bill, think. How do I get out of this one. Doomed. Dooooomed.]

Yes, that is a fine wine glass. Yes, indeed. Good choice sir. You have excellent taste in your choice of glassware. Holds liquids well. Sturdy. Clear as glass should be. Large enough to fit comfortably in your hand yet not too big to be burdensome.

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Well... thank you. I do pride myself on my glassware. It is a hobby of mine you see. I have a vast collection. I always bring my own wine glasses anywhere I go. I do not recall ever seeing you before. However did you know?

Bill: I... uh....

[Bill is lost, he must think of something quick, but what]

I... uh... collect them myself.

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: AH-HA. Finally, another person who understands the shear beauty of liquid receptacles. I commend you sir, for you have made me a happy man knowing there are others out there with the same mind set as mine.

Bill: BINGO... I'm IN!!!

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Excuse me.

Bill: Ooops, uh. I said, er, "Ringo's spyin'"

[Dammit, Bill thought, what a lame ass recoup. That doesn't even make sense. Just run with it.]

Yes, that's it. I thought I saw Ringo Starr hiding underneath a table spying on us.

[There was an awkward silence. Mr. Bottoms glared at Bill. SHIT -- thought Bill. I'm totally busted now. Shit, shit, shit. Mr. Bottoms face started turning fire engine red with anger as Bill looked for a quick escape.]

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: DAMN THAT RINGO STARR. This is NOT the first time he has done this. If I told him once, I have told him a thousand times, he was just the DRUMMER. Not good enough to be here. But does he ever listen - NOOOOOOO!

Bill: Oh.. I..

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Here, come with me. Let's walk over this way and find some more privacy.

Bill: Sure...

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: You seem like a good man. An outstanding man by the looks of it. Any man who knows his glassware is a great attribute to the world.

Bill: Why... yes.. that is definitely my...

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Shhh...

Bill: Yes, sir.

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: I have been looking for a man like you for some time. You may know that I own the largest foot deodorizer company in eastern Los Angeles. I'm sure everybody here knows that.

Bill: Why of course...

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Shhh...

Bill: Uh..

[Bill is silenced as Mr. Bottoms presses a finger to his lips to silence him.]

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: There presently is a job for "Assistant of the Co-Manager of Powder Consistency". Mind you, there is a huge amount of responsibility in a position like this. But... I believe you may well be the man I'm looking for.

[WOW!!! Thought Bill. This is what I have been dreaming of ALL MY LIFE. This is IT!!! No more "Assistant to the Assistant of the Co-Manager of Powder Consistency". HELL NO. We're talking "Assistant of the Co-Manager of Powder Consistency" now BABY!!! Thoughts of money, power, and hot babes flooded his mind.]

Bill: Y..yyy..yy.YES [he stammered]. Absolutely. I would LOVE to have the opportunity.

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Good. Now. All you have to do is to eat my finger.

Bill: Excuse me?

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Eat my finger.

[As he says this, he takes his right index finger, wine glass still clutched in his hand and jams it into Bills mouth making him gag]

Bill: GGgggarfff...thhhp..thhhp... what.. why did you do that?

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: I told you. You have to eat my finger. It is quite simple. If you WANT the job, you must eat my finger.

Bill: But...

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: No... Bottoms, and this is it. Nothing more. No worries about lengthy interview processes or the anxiety of having this opportunity taken from you by another possible candidate for the job. All you have to do it eat my finger. Now. Right now. Then done.

Bill: Just... eat YOUR finger?

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Yes.

Bill: Like... YOUR finger, the one you have in front of me?

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Yes.

Bill: That one. The one right there. Like, right right there. The one you are waving around in front of my face?

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Yes.

Bill: THAT one [he quickly touches the swaying finger with his own] THAT one. You want ME... to EAT... THIS finger right here.

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Yes.

Bill: But... but... that is INSANE!!!

Mr. Jonathan Bottoms: Yes, it is.

[And Bill gets the BIG PROMOTION. Hurrah. Our hero. Moral of the story: Ringo rhymes with Bingo.]