The Honey Trap
'You are through to Honeytech Enterprises Incorporated. Please be aware that calls may be recorded and monitored for training purposes.'

'Hello?  Hello?! I need some help-'

'Your name sir?'
'John Kay'
'Good evening sir, Anne Droid speaking. How may I be of assistance this evening?'
'Hang on, Anne Droid? Are you a-'
'I am an advanced cerebral hybrid sir. I will be able to assist you with whatever your technical requirement may be.'

'Aaah, I was hoping to talk to a real person, is that not possible?'

'Due to the lateness of the hour sir, that is not currently feasible.  You may wish to consult a human representative between the hours of 10am and 2pm tomorrow.'

'No, no!  This is very urgent, actually this might be better. I've got a problem with one of your machines.'

'We prefer to call them hybrids sir, could you tell me the make and model in question?'

'Err, yes.  It's the P-Leisure range, model Beyonce Honeytunnel.'

'Okay sir, is that the standard model or extra booty?'

'Erm…extra booty I think.'

'And did you register your purchase online within the last six months?'

'Yes, just last week.'

'Fine sir, I have all the manuals and technical specifications for that particular hybrid at my disposal.  What seems to be the problem?'

'Well, it's a bit delicate really…'

'I see sir, that can happen on it's first use, the application of a non-perfumed moisturizer to the-'

'No, no, I'm not delicate!  It's a delicate matter. I'm stuck.'

'You don't know how to explain sir?'

'No!  I'm literally stuck.'

'Stuck where sir?'

'Inside the Beyonce Honeytunnel extra booty hybrid model, that's why I'm phoning!'

'I see sir.  May I ask which part of you is stuck where?'

'Well isn't that obvious?!

'From the manuals at my disposal there are at least three points of entry on that particular model and only you can specify for me which anatomical region of yours has become confined in one of these areas. I have ruled out your tongue due to your clear speech patterns.'

'What?!  It's not my tongue, it's my…my…todger.'

'I'm sorry sir, that word does not appear in my current vocabulary listing. What is a 'todger'?

'Christ on a bike!  My willie, my dick!'

'Are Willie and Dick also stuck in the hybrid sir?  You should be advised that this particular model is recommended for single companion use only. Also what relevance is the son of God's transport device?'

'No, no, no. Sorry.  I'll put this as simply as I can.  My penis is stuck in the hybrid.'

'I understand now sir.  Where is it stuck?'

'Give me strength!  In her…her….honeytunnel.'

'That's the name of the model sir, could you be more specific?'

'In.  Her.  Vagina.'

'Thank you sir.  I should have a possible solution in one moment. Please hold the line.'

'I'm not going anywhere….'

'Thank you for your continued patience sir. Now if you could just reach around and use your index finger to insert it at the base of the-'

'Done it!  Why didn't I think of that?  No, hang on, now my finger's stuck too!  It's got a grip like a vice!'

'Sir, where is your finger stuck?'

'At the base of the spine, in the nearest, er, entry area.'

'The manual indicates this is the rectal passage of the Beyonce Honeytunnel model, is this correct?'

'Yes, you told me to insert my finger at the base of the spine.'

'That is incorrect sir.  I had not finished. The correct location was the base of the neck, a retractable skin patch in this region should reveal a masterchip.'

'Hells bells, now I'm really stuck!  I'm putting the phone down to try with my only free hand.  Do not end the call.'

'As you wish sir.'

'Right, I'm back.  I've found it, what next?'

'Remove the chip please sir.'

'Done.  Now what?'

'Reinsert it to initiate a reboot.'

'What?!  I dropped it!  It came flying out 'cos I was trying to do it one-handed and it went under the bed somewhere.  And I can't get under the bed.'

'Why not sir?'

'Because I'm physically attached to a six foot Amazonian lovedroid via my penis and my right index finger!'

'Try and remain calm sir. There may be another approach.  A more natural one.  Can I enquire how long you have been stuck inside the hybrid?'

'God, it feels like a lifetime but it's probably about twenty minutes.'

'And how old are you sir?'

'Fifty two, what's that got to do with anything?'

'The statistical data I have at my disposal shows that sometime in the next five to ten minutes your tumescence should subside and withdrawal will be much easier.'

'Aaah.  Yes.  About that….it was my first time using the hybrid so I thought I might need a little boost.  Regretting it a bit now.'

'Boost' sir?'

'Yes, Viagra.  I could be like this for another five or six hours.  I'm worried about my circulation down there. I don't want gangrene!'

'In that case sir I would recommend contacting the emergency services.  I could put you through immediately if you like?'

'Shitty McShitpants, no! I'm a well respected high court judge, I'd be ruined!  Is there no other way?'

'I could try and counteract the physical effect of the Viagra by dulling your mental senses.'

'Bore me out of my erection?'

'Precisely sir.  I have the OECD industrial and agricultural statistics for Romania for 1993 at my disposal.'

'Okay.  Let's give it a go.  Nothing with any sexual imagery though, no oil drilling or mining.  Or trains or tunnels.'

'Yes sir.'

'Or cucumbers or bananas.'

'I have zero figures for the banana output for Romania for the year in question sir.  My data indicates it is not a native crop of the region.'

'Yes, sorry.  Blood trapped in other areas than my brain at the moment.'

'It's fine sir.  So if you're sitting comfortably, I'll begin….'