Harrogate walked some ways down the street with his hands in his pockets and his face leaning down, the day growing on his face as small black patches on his chin. The weariness on his eyes, blackened, like a hollow skull. He kicked a rock down the street and it creaked somewhere far from him.
“Hey, you. Dwarf.” Someone said, muted behind the sound of huffing. A pipe burned red in the darkness of an alley, a single red orb that grew out and in like a dying meteorite on the blank surface of some lightless planet. This person, this figure, reared his head out.
“Saw you talking to that other guy, saw that it didn’t work…” White smoke came out where Harrogate thought his mouth-hole was but of which could not confer truth this way or that.
“Yeah. That was me.” Harrogate said.
More smoke. More glowing red. Was that a bit of laughter in the back, stifled by a cough?
“Ever heard of the adult industry?” He asked.
He sat in the leather chair, the whole room filled to the brim with memorabilia. ‘Aldous Hucklefinn - Best Director MCA 1365 AL’
“What’s that for?” Harrogate pointed to the golden dildo somewhere sitting on a shelf. Looking at it made him close his legs.
“Oh, that? Won it last year.” He said. “Ever heard of Back doors on Back Forest Elves three?”
“N-no…” Harrogate rubbed the sweat off his forehead. Around were the large people, the nude pictures of men and women that in some capacity or another were large. As if the sliders of the divine could not decide which way or the other, that these people were given by some act of carelessness (or expensive surgery) some…interesting features. Blondes who looked to have three heads. Men with snakes that coiled around their knees.
Harrogate leaned back into his chair. He felt two cushioned pillows above in the shape of -
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He blushed.
“You m-make p-p-p-porn. Don’t you?”
“Shh.” Aldous said. “I don’t allow profanity here.”
“That’s a g-glowing cock!”
“If you’re not going to listen, I’m not going to be able to conduct my business with you. Do you understand?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Harrogate said. “I just don’t know how I’d be, you know, a good fit?”
“Everyones a good fit in this industry. We’re the most inclusive business out there, buddy!”
“I just - you know.” He looked down. If he could have closed his legs any harder into themselves, he would have turned into a black hole. “I’m not…you know…well-endowed.”
“That’s fine. How many jimmies can you fit in your butter-maker back there?”
“What?”
“I mean. How many hot rod’s can plow your black fields?” He asked, hands out with a ring on every finger and a flower-shirt with two buttons undone down from his neck. His black hair protruded from the gap.
“I don’t. I don’t take any dicks in there!”
Aldous raised his pointer finger.
“No cursing. That’s obscene.”
“S-sorry.” Harrogate said. “I can’t fit any Jimmies in me. No Johns, no Henry’s either. Sorry. I don’t think I’m made for this line of work.”
“Now, hold on.” Aldous stood.
“I need cash, but I can’t. You know…perform. I think I’ll go collect cans or something because this is too extreme for me, you understand?”
“Buddy. Buddy. Buddy.” Aldous stood behind Harrogate and put his fat hands on his shoulders and massaged them, it was like collapsing two mountains with how hiked his body was. “I know a perfect role for you. And a perfect scene. It’s a type of thing where men who can’t perform, can perform. Catch my drift?”
“What?” Harrogate asked.
“Ever heard of B.O.C?”
“SHOVE THAT BIG ORC C-”
“No cursing on set!” Aldous said through the megaphone. “It’s obscene!”
All around the crystal balls were set, with the small fairies working around the globe and capturing every angle and every possible second of it. Harrogate, there on the side of the cushioned sofa; petrified to a stand still while the orc and fair-skinned elf went at it. His body, reeled away from the two in the middle of their…you know.
The elf looked across to Harrogate. Harrogate was breathless, still, eyes unmoving.
“You know, you’re supposed to be jerking off right now.” She whispered.
“What?” He said.
“It’s kind of your job.” Her legs spread high up. The orc slammed her down. It was like watching assault - it was a kind of assault. His face contorted, soured tight around his nose. He turned his head away.
“You gotta look!” She said. “Don’t you want to get paid?”