The Girl Kicked Out The Door
By Chloe DInnerrolly (Oct. 11, 2008)
Toilets are flushing counterclockwise, lions are spitting out baby carcasses, and Sarah Palin’s gunning down elderly blue-vested Walmart greeters in shock; it’s a heartbreak that is being felt-up across America. In a bizarre twist of 518 cc’s of silicone and undeniable fate, Hugh Hefner and his main squeeze –out of all the juicy apples that fill up his fruit tree- Holly Madison, have put an end to their storybook romance. After 7 years of Metamucil, boobies, and bliss, the picturesque couple has called it quits, leaving sorority girls scratching their crab bites in bewilderment.
So happily displayed with shimmering body glitter and bottled peroxide on their hit reality show, The Girls Next Door, out of Hef’s bleached and bejeweled girlfriend party of three, which includes co-stars, co-workers, and co-strumpets Kendra Wilkinson and Bridget Marquardt, Holly Madison was crowned The Number 1 Girl and The Number 1 Pooper Scooper. Thanks to the man who paid the way to their rise to fame, the golden trinity seemed to live the luxurious life of buzzing queen bees.
Old enough to be their grandpa’s grandpa, to make things convenient, Hef had the ladies share the wealth, the limelight, last night’s Rice-A-Roni leftovers, and him. As the male audience watched on mute and with their bedroom doors locked, the braless bouncy gals showcase all the glitz, glamour, and fun being part of a polygamous relationship can be. But apparently, sharing isn’t caring.
A true pioneer in literature and the arts, over 50 years ago, Hef had a big idea behind a simple concept, and launched a little known nudie mag titled, Playboy, to which over time has snowballed into a million-dollar empire, and the natural next step in a starlet’s career after her stint with Disney. (Check out newsstands in 2010 for November centerfold Miley Cyrus.) The wanton elder has accomplished more than a lifetime of work in his 82 years, and intends on keeping his business going full speed, ignoring the signs that his tank is running on empty.
He may not have his original set of teeth or walk without the help of orthopedic slippers, but the silver fox has those age-spotted hands full. After a hard day’s work at the office, going over countless roll after roll of film filled with naked women, the old man is exhausted. The last thing he wants is to come home to a committed relationship with the same ol’ boring girl, who is already pushing 30, and insists on filling his doddering mind with crazy talk of marriage and babies. It’s 4:15, Hef just wants a 5-minute handjob and to sip his dinner of Ensure in peace.
The top half of the hourglass is rapidly running out of sand, and Mr. Playboy doesn’t want the party to end. To the inventor of the game, a worthwhile relationship has no strings attached, g-strings included. While other men his age –most of whom reside six feet underground- are collecting social security checks, Hef’s still collecting V-cards.
Unfortunately, Madison never picked up a copy of Playboy before and was naïve enough to believe that you CAN teach an old dog new tricks, even one as misbehaved as Hef; who at his wrinkly age, is still sniffing crotches, humping guests’ legs, and jumping at the chance to run out the door to mount the neighbor’s new poodle. The Big Dog doesn’t even need to perform special rollover tricks to get a treat, or several treats at the same time, for that matter. He has been overstuffed and underdressed for decades. The spoiled fossil is a creature of habit, and no amount of last minute obedience training is going to stop him from drooling, shedding, and peeing all over the floor.
Luckily for Madison, the peroxide-blonde believes in magic, for the lovesick ex has already bunny-hopped into the greasy arms of Mindfreak magician, Criss Angel. After becoming accustomed to a man who lacks the strength to lift a box of Lucky Charms and whose sack hangs below his knees, the new hookup is an odd one for Madison, as Angel is able to guess her card, pull a rabbit out of his hat, and magically elevate things without the use of a handful of blue pills.
Despite the cankerous-colossal split, Madison and the other 2 bed buddies are set to continue taping new seasons of The Girls Next Door as an educational tool for teenage girls nationwide, documenting the logical way to find success. There is no need in breaking your piggy bank to scrounge enough for tuition, as that certificate of completion from ITT Tech Career College is unnecessary. Rather, put that money where your second cousin’s mouth has been and invest in a quality boob job, leaving your breasts as round as two snow globes, to hold the attraction of a potential sugar daddy –or in Hef’s case, Splenda Grand Pappy- to make your shameless salary dreams come true.
Although rumor has it, Madison is not the only one said to go. News is surfacing that the Fab Four is breaking up altogether. The girls may all soon move out, leaving Kendra in a shrunk football jersey laughing as she mumbles the word, “hippopotamus” and Bridget decked out in pink frou-frou online shopping elsewhere for Cookie Monster costumes for herself and for her cat. The Girls Next Door will take a literal perspective, as they become the girls who really do live next door. But need not worry, the bedrooms in the Playboy mansion are never left vacant.
Whether Hef has his Miracle Ear on to hear it or not, death is knocking quite loudly. And death is not something to look forward to; a skeleton in a black cloak isn’t the idea of sexy. Hef’s not planning on spending his remaining years, if not months, tied down, if it’s not in the fun way. If the future follows out to Hef’s agenda, he’s going down with a pipe and a smile, as 2 young blondes go down on him.
