The sun rises in the east, your girlfriend's eyes flutter open, and a smile graces her lips. It's her favorite day of the year; Valentine's Day.
She blinks twice as she silently slips out of bed to get ready for work. She looks over at you as you lay there snoring lightly, enjoying the final moments of rest before your work day begins as well. She sighs a little, thankful for having found such a great man in her life, and looking forward to what today will bring for her. She knows you've always been a romantic at heart (that's what she keeps telling herself anyway), and so she's been guessing for weeks at what type of surprise you've conjured up for her this year. Will you pick her up at work and whisk her away to a tropical island on a weekend getaway somewhere? Will you surprise her with a candle lit dinner at your favorite restaurant somewhere in a private room? Did you spring for diamonds that will make her eyes glow even brighter?
All of these things are running through her head today as she busies herself at her job this morning. And then, when she least expected it, her surprise arrived.
"Excuse me, miss? We have a special delivery for you this Valentine's Day."
/A Gjallarhorn sounds in the distance …
"OH HEY YOU FREAKY ASS SEX KITTEN. I heard you're a pretty special BROWN EYED LADY that is going to get a surprise gift in your BROWN SPIDER later tonight, amirite guys, or what?! HIGH FIVES OFFICE BROS! Let's get this party started! WHO'S GOT THE COKE!"
/portable boombox starts playing "Immigrant Song" by Led Zepplin
"WOOOO! NOW THIS IS A VALENTINE'S DAY PARTY! HEY! Carol! Receptionist over there! I see you eyeing the Gjallarhorn in my pants. Don't worry girl, YOU'RE NEXT! But first we have to rile this lady up. HEY HOT TITS, your BF was kind enough to throw LITERALLY HUNDREDS OF ONES at my bank account for me to show up and take my jersey off, so you could stare into my shirtless, mascot-soulless eyes on your special day. And that was before he showed me a picture of you in your bikini from Florida last summer and I said, DUDE, I'LL PAY YOU TO SEE THOSE SLALOM SLOPES IN PERSON! We just agreed that I could keep you in the spank bank and call it a deal."
/Vikings tear-away jersey is ripped off, revealing perfect sculpted, felt abs.
"IT'S OKAY, CHICA, run your ring-less fingers through this felted chest hair. It's felt, so it ain't cheating. TRY NOT TO SLIDE OFF YOUR CHAIR WHEN YOU DO IT THOUGH. I can't be responsible for office injuries to the VAGINA PARTS, I signed a waiver. BACK OFF DENISE, FROM HR, YOU'LL GET YOUR CHANCE. So I hear you like chocolate, huh? EVER TRY WHITE CHOCOLATE?! It's creamy and Scandinavian, you'll like it. Here, turn around, and … SURPRISE! HAHA, YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS A TOBLERONE, BUT NOPE, IT'S EXACTLY WHAT YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A FELTED PENIS!"
/Jeanne, the obviously flushed office manager demands VIKTOR leaves, and she escorts him out.
"AN ESCORT, HUH? Funny lady, I would have taken you for a common STREET WHORE. LET'S GO GET BLOW JOBS IN THE PARKING LOT, EVERYONE!! Alright, alright, I'm leaving. HEY, VALENTINE DELIVERY GIRL. Try not to scream MY name out tonight instead, OK? You can keep the shirt. You'll need it for sopping up the wet mess under your desk. NO NEED TO THANK ME, SWEET ASS! VIKTOR OUT!"