Herman Cain Celebrates His Appearance on Meet the Press: A Fantasia:
"Pour that hot cheese on my nipples," Herman Cain told the big-titted whore holding a freshly baked pizza over his chest. "You gotta do it now, before the grease congeals." The whore giggled nervously as she tilted a slice so that a white band of cheese dribbled off slowly, approaching the Republican presidential frontrunner's exposed flesh. When the mozzarella blend hit the areola, Cain yelped and laughed, shouting, "Yeah. Aw, shit. Now put some of that pepperoni oil on my balls and lick it off."
Cain had the hooker - Sophie? Sarah? Salty? Who the fuck cares since sluts don't use their real names - waiting for him at his suite at the Four Seasons for when he returned from his debut on NBC's Sunday morning gab show, Meet the Press. The prostitute, whose name was actually Audrey but went professionally as "Sadie," thought the pizza was going to be for lunch.
"Goddamn, how I tricked 'em all," Cain told Sadie when he arrived and dismissed his handlers, who were used to this part of the day. "Did you see me?" Sadie lied and said she had and why didn't he just come over to the bed. He ignored her. "Some of that shit, damn. I actually said to a national audience, 'Suppose one breadmaker says, "I'm going to charge $2.20 for a loaf of bread," and the other one says he's going to charge $2.40 for a loaf of bread. Well, guess which one is going to win out based upon the quality being essentially the same?' I actually said that shit, shit that schoolchildren know about money." He laughed heartily.
Fooling people is what Herman Cain has always been about. Making 'em buy shitty food. Making 'em think he's a man of the people. He ran a pizza business named "Godfather's," a patently offensive name, one that evoked mobsters even as it served Italian-ish food. If a white candidate had been CEO of Sambo's, he'd've never seen the light of day. Now, Cain makes money through motivational speaking, which is shorthand for "rubes pay me to say bullshit."
It's all about marketing, you know, keeping it simple. Cain used to market poison; his products are responsible for more deaths in America than al-Qaeda. But that doesn't stop him. "9-9-9," Cain said to Sadie, finally beginning to undress. "You hear how much everyone talks about it? Talking like there's anything behind that other than it's easy to say." He smirked and said, "9-9-9" first in a flat Minnesota accent and then in a Texas one. "Buncha fuckin' retards we got running for president."
In some ways, Cain had to admit, he's as surprised as anyone. Dropping his pants and folding them over a chair, he remarked, "I just had a book coming out. I just wanted to jack up my speaking fees. I thought I'd do a few debates and be done. This is god-damned funny." He loves that, as a black Republican, his never-elected-to-anything self gets more face time than all the black Democrats in Congress combined. And that's not even counting Fox.
"All right, all right, here we go," he moaned to Sadie, gesturing at his erect penis. "You just jack me off right onto that extra large combo pie." Sadie felt a bit disturbed at the request, but she had heard worse. She had been forced to eat food after Mike Huckabee had chewed it. Sarah Palin had once ridden her like a pony, swatting her ass until it bled with a riding crop while Todd fucked himself with a vibrator in the corner. So she diligently yanked away, and when she sensed Cain was about to orgasm, she moved the pizza box so that the pie caught the full amount of his ejaculation. "You deliver that to over to NBC. Tell 'em it's compliments of the Herminator," he said, as he quickly dressed.
He had to get going. He had a meeting with Roger Ailes about his next job.