Written by Robert W. Armijo
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Thursday, 6 August 2009

image for Sexually Frustrated Health Club Gunman's Blowup Sex Doll Mistakenly Delivered to Wrong Address
Better call up your grandma or grandpa before it's too late...and they get an inflatable companion, too.

New York, New York - Police investigating the so-called health club massacre have confirmed today that the suspected gunman was expecting the delivery of a blowup sex doll that never arrived at his residence on the day of the bloody incident.

Records show he had ordered the life-sized adult sex toy online the day before, even paying extra to have it shipped to him express overnight delivery. However, due to a mix-up in the invoice, it was delivered to the wrong address, a brownstone residence across the street.

"I thought it was a birthday present sent to me by my grandson who lives in Virginia," said Joan Parker, 87, the neighbor across the street who got the delivery of the blowup sex doll.

Mrs. Parker was in the middle of celebrating her 87th birthday with a small group of her peers from the assisted living apartments adjacent to her sidewalk brownstone building when the doorbell rang.

"According to the time on the receipt signed by a Joan Parker, the blowup sex doll was delivered to her address," said police. "She signed it approximately one hour before the assault took place on the health club."

"I was just about to light up all those candles on my birthday cake when a nice young man at the door said he had a special delivery for me," later described Mrs. Parker explaining how her name appeared on the delivery receipt. "I told that fellow that his pen was out of ink, but all he said it was some new electronic pen or something like that. But its batteries must have been low, because I pressed harder and harder but still no ink came out of that pen."

Police believe that if the gunman would have received delivery of that adult sex toy that perhaps the he would not have taken out his sexual frustration by attacking the health club, at least not that day away.

As Mrs. Parker sat back down on her couch all her friends begged her to open the special delivery package first. So she did.

"Oh my lord," said Mrs. Parker recalling her and the reaction of her friends at the sight of contents of the package. "We all just looked at it in utter amazement. Then Mrs. Johnson asked, 'What is it?"

As the group of elderly women passed around the blowup sex doll, examining it closely, neighbors began to gather outside Mrs. Parker's brownstone building peering into her living room window from the sidewalk below.

"Wait!" said Mrs. Walker putting on her reading glasses. "I know what that is because I found one once under my grandson's bed when he was visiting last Thanksgiving. He said it was...Oh, gush darn it. Now what did he call it. Oh, yeah, his inflatable companion. See, there's a tiny tube you blow air into to make it expand."

The following day, once again a crowd gathered outside Mrs. Parker's brownstone building staring into her living room window from the sidewalk below but this time they were accompanied by police who were there ringing her doorbell.

"Mrs. Parker," said a police detective yelling trough the locked door. "You have to give up the rubber doll. It's evidence in a murder case. We need it!"

"Well, I need it too," came the muffled reply of Mrs. Parker from behind the closed door. "My children don't call me anymore. I get so lonely."

As the policeman continued to ring the doorbell, tensions mounted. All the while, Mrs. Parker just kept rocking in her chair, stopping intermittently to pour some tea in a cup she had placed right next to the inflated sex doll.

"Aren't you cold Mrs. Weatherbe?" said a contented Mrs. Parker speaking to her inflatable companion. "After all you hardly have a stitch on."

"It's a tragedy, really," said Sgt. Wonker as he hand signaled the go ahead to men wearing black jumper suits, ski masks and carrying riffle scoped weapons to take their positions. "People should pay more attention to the elderly. I mean they're people too, right?"

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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