So, I’m taking over my shift at work. My colleague has just given his change-over briefing, and he’s getting ready to leave, when a commercial for “Pajamagrams” comes on the television. “Only one gift is guaranteed to get women to take their clothes off this Valentine’s day,” the announcer intones.
Now, I already know that the next line will be, “A Pajamagram!” However, the makers of this commercial have thoughtfully left a nice anticipatory silence between the two sentences. Of course, anyone having watched a movie with me since my MST3K infatuation in college knows not to leave such pauses in the dialogue when I’m around. Before the announcer can gleefully inform us that it is a “Pajamagram” which will entice the clothing off of our significant others, I lean over confidentially and announce my own idea about what gift is guaranteed to get women out of their clothes.
“Money,” I say.
Invariably, the Pajamagrams commercial is followed by a spot for Vermont Teddy Bears. The VTB spot apparently takes place in an office whose steno pool consists exclusively of between-jobs porn stars. One of these… ahem… “buxom young ladies” receives a Vermont Teddy Bear from her boyfriend, delivered at work. The dialogue begins in true porn-wannabe fashion:
“It’s so much bigger than I expected!” offers one girl.
“Oh, I could just kiss it and kiss it,” says another.
“I can’t wait to give him my surprise,” finishes the first.
At this point, I look over at my friend and ask him, “Now, do you know what was given to those girls to make them say all of those sexy things?”
He opens his mouth to say ‘no,’ then closes it and thinks. “Money?” he asks.
“Money,” I confirm.