You Knew this WAS coming

Joker walks into a talent agent's office, and says, "I have a family act, and I’d like you to represent us."

The agent says, "Sorry, I don't represent family acts. They're a little too old-fashioned."

The man says, "But, this is a really special one."

The agent says, "Okay, well what's the act?"

Joker replies:

“It goes like this. I come out on stage alone and stare at the crowd for a full minute before my wife comes in, hand-in-hand with my account executive. She leads the Exec in front of me where he sits down and is handed a bowl with some warm water. He proceeds to gently wash my testicles making sure to scrub and rinse every follicle, every pore. Once I’m satisfied with the level of genital cleanliness he has achieved, I reward him with a flaccid cock-strike right across the chin. He says thank you and I proceed to take out a knife and indicate that he should turn around. He obeys like a good little choirboy. Speaking of choirboys, my 4-year-old son brings out another small boy and they begin fellating each other in the 69 position. Their beautiful hairless bodies, a clear product of their age and the chemotherapy induced to treat their terminal illness, undulate with orgasmic spasms... or they might be convulsing again. I can’t tell but I don’t mind as I have fully achieved an erection, which I graciously inter in the hemorrhoid studded affair I have in front of me while tickling the account execs spinal chord with my knife. I ask how it feels and he can only muffle an “it’s familiar” while my wife proceeds to bring out my miniature dachshund, which she proceeds to masturbate until the pup ejaculates on the eyes of the willing exec since the dog's name tag reads ‘boss/client’. My 8-year-old daughter then comes out with the company CEO dressed in his most expensive suit. I take my cock out from the raspberry butt hive I was so rightfully raping and have the CEO suck me off, heightening the already rigid erection to dangerous girth. The CEO has a damp spot on his trousers from sucking me off and I tell him he can eat my 8 year old since he likes them so young and fresh. He objects and asks if he can have the boy instead and I accept, being the courteous and obeying peon I am. He rips off his shirt and shows that he is donning nipple clamps with a golden chain that dangles over a bullseye tattoo on his chest. He kneels in front of the choral pretzel and begins to lick the gentle nub of an anus, pink and fragile just like he likes em. He intercalates the young boy's rim while often swapping to make out with my son while the traffic director walks out dressed in a suit. A faint clanging can be heard and when she proceeds to take off her trousers, a huge electric dildo comes into view with matching benoit balls included clanging joyfully as she smacks the bleeding exec, yet continues to walk behind the CEO. She takes off his belt and strips him down to a tight pink garter belt with matching stockings and tutu. She pulls what little hair he has left and puts the belt in his mouth, reign-like so she can ride him like he’s ridden so many. The pungent smell of burnt hair comes from the grunting CEO as he is being ridden like some stallion from Satan’s Rodeo. The IT guy then steps on stage wearing Smurf underwear and a rubber ducky butt plug in clear site with his bumpy badly shaved chest showing clear signs of infection, no doubt from wetting his bed constantly. He does a pirouette and teabags the exec on the neck, does a jumping split, teabags the CEO on the forehead, does a riposte, and shadow fences against himself and proceeds to teabag the two young boys. He prances around further and on his way to teabag my daughter, gets struck with a judo chop that folds him over, thus teabagging himself, while the awkward stance offers his tattoo for all to see: ‘teabagging fairy’. The traffic director then proceeds to tighten the belt choking the CEO when three media people come on stage and put a slip and slide plastic from one side of the stage to the other. They proceed to pour 4 bottles of gin, 1 bottle of vodka, three pints of aged yak semen (you always need a little yak) and four pounds of stool samples all over the slip and slide and begin taking turns into going on the ride. At the sight of this, the CEO finally gets an un-Viagra induced boner and bucks the traffic director off so he can run to the shit and slide bonanza. George Bush comes into scene with a dunce cap reading ‘nucular’, a shit stained leaking diaper, a Curious George baby T, and shiny red Dorothy shoes while saying, 'there’s no place like Texas, there’s no place like Texas'. I stop my passive role in scene and proceed to dropkick him off the stage onto a vat of toxic waste that’s on the floor. A light comes into view and a closet appears in the back left part of the stage and ‘Smooth Criminal’ is heard playing when Michael Jackson, OJ Smith, Tom Cruise, a giraffe, a monkey and the “metrosexual” art director come out of the closet. The giraffe is scared from the rancid smell of the CEO’s burnt asshole and runs off while the monkey does raspberries on the broiled asshole instead. Michael Jackson and OJ begin cock fencing and the entire account department and their seven bastard children step into view, tackle, murder and eat OJ and Michael and begin to masturbate a line of 7 camels with MJ’s glitter glove. The CEO, in a maddened state of euphoria, slips and slides on the camel semen and crashes into the semi conscious self-sucking IT guy. Then comes the promotions department with a vast, illegal alien, promotion girl entourage and Courvossier cognac bottles stuck up their asses. The VP of account planning arrives since the musk of dirty cunt is in the air and that’s the only time he replies to anything. He’s wearing a gag ball laced kilt and his pubes stretch down beneath the hem of his manskirt. The dachshund goes under him, bites his nuts and he runs off the stage screaming ‘Yowza!!! YOWZAAAAA!!!!' The Human Resource department director comes into scene, wearing a samurai outfit and has a big 3 foot long steel dildo styled with a katana handle. She beats the exec over the head with it, knocking him out cold and proceeds to ram the icy rod up the new person on stage, the CEO’s son. His pimple face wails in passion as he pops each hive to lubricate his hands and jerk himself off while singing a Phil Collins medley. The dog begins lapping the puss, blood, shit, piss, cum filled pool forming below the child. The CEO leaves his IT passion and a bunch of Jews run on stage, tackling the CEO, dressing him in Jesus attire, prompting the Human Resource director to come and fist fuck the kid’s father in front of the orgasmic child while the Jews scream ‘nail him!! Nail him!!!!!!’ and they all are about to come to a frenzied orgasm when the delivery boy comes in saying ‘where’s the beef' and gets jizzed on by 7 old jews, one young katana dildo fucked boy, his father and the dachshund before the IT guy regains consciousness and teabags him and I tell the camera guy to come in and the whole lascivious, scatological maelstrom turns him on so much he proceeds to fuck the camera through the lens asking for someone to bareback him, which he gets from the maintenance lady wielding an unlubricated broomstick. His bleeding penis pulses with unsuccessful blood spurges that would normally induce a massive erection from the huge blood surplus. In comes a black guy, yells 'crackalicious' and goes offscreen. A Chinese man comes on stage and says ‘WOK THIS WAY’ and waddles to and fro, taking heed not to stumble on the goop on the floor. He exits stage left. The French Prime minister comes on scene masturbating and simply says ‘quoi’ and exits stage left. And finally the corpse of Jimmy Hoffa falls from the ceiling with a big note tied around his cock reading “TADAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”.


He looks at the agent and says, "Well, that's the act. What do you think?"

The agent just sits in silence for a long time. Finally, he manages, "That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"

"Paris Hilton’s Day Off or The Aristocrats."