Funny story written by World Supplement

Tuesday, 15 July 2014


The funny story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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Ever since the dawn of time people/old people, have enjoyed/felt equally ashamed of, having intercourse. In a society were sex sells and tits are bitcoins, the new look is to have those double D moneybags swinging by your knees. In an exclusive undercover report, we managed to have a sit down with the head of 'Golden Wheelchair Escorting' and ask...why?

The 'Golden Wheelchair Escorting' company has been operating out of the Shady Views retirement home for 7 years now and has been nothing short of a smash hit.

As I wait for my appointment with the Grandaddy of Gran-fuckery I feel a smidge awkward. I casually start thumbing through a life insurance brochure (which has been mixed in with a copy of 50+) whilst a registered nurse by the front desk restocks the lubrication bottles that are nestled in with the Fixodent. I am told both are freebies for returning customers. The devil truly is in the detail.

Sandy Bareback, born Sheldon Sanderson is the C.E.O.A.Pimp of Shady View.

"We still operate day-to-day as an old peoples home, except we now cater for two types of client. The elderly, and those who like to fuck the elderly."

Sandy has a tone of voice some where between Joe Pesci in Casino and a throat cancer survivor. Like hearing a siren in a cement mixer from 30 yards. Unique, encapsulating, and eerily erotic. His voice like his customers is to the point.

"When I first started in this game I would run into a lot trouble with the punters who didn't want to pay up. Young bucks want young girls but don't have the wallet strength to back it up. Back in the day I'd spend most of my evenings chasing down twenty something's for a few lousy bucks and end up missing out on making any real profit. Then I realised, hang on, If they can't run, then they gotta pay"

A tactic that has seemingly worked out in the grand scheme of things.

Sandy offers to introduce me to a few of his favourite part time workers. On the walk from his office to the 'showroom' he explains how his profit margins remain high. Because of the age of his employees he actually qualifies for a government run 'help the elderly back to work' tax break. I'm baffled at how this is possible?

"Essentially I keep the rate of working hours lower for the older generation and make up the profits with the specialists (more to be revealed). The beauty however lies in the English attitude towards sex, especially sex above 70. The tax man would rather lie to himself about the nature of what we do here than face the truth, the truth that his grandmother is getting banged out of her orthopaedics by someone 20 years her younger."

As we enter the showroom I am greeted by the sound of a crackling unturned record, Sandy jumps to it and in seconds out blasts Frank Sinatra singing fly me to the moon. Apt. From behind a medical curtain in the corner of the room hobbles five of Sandy's regular workers. Rose, Bell, Ruth, Jean and Ada. Each of the girls represent a niche market value that Sandy has managed to exploit to it's full potential.

Sandy bellows 'We've got it all covered with these Five' while lighting a cigar from a hot plate in the corner.

"You like the idea of wheeling them around first then Ada's your girl, from zimmers to strollers she's got the lot, wanna do some prescip meds first, then take a nose full of Rose. Bell and Ruth for your gran on gran, and finally coming up the rear... (Sandy winks) is Jean, riddled with dementia for a memory you'll never want to forget, and she can't help but."

I feel like I'm at a cattle market for the insane. Sandy is nothing short of evil, yet his spirit is so that you can't help but be dragged in to the cavalcade. I start to feel uneasy and suggest to Sandy that we go back and chat in the privacy of his office. When we arrive Jean is standing with two glasses of whiskey.

I have one last question for Sandy, How do the families feel about all this?

Sandy pauses, downs his whiskey and looks me in the eyes.

When was the last time you went and saw your dear grandma? Last week? Last month? Last year? I offer these women something, something that the family would never bring up to the women who brought them in to this world. I offer them a second chance to feel useful, to be wanted, and to build a nest egg, meds aren't cheap, and little Timmy's gap year of sexual exploration isn't going to fund itself. Do the families know what we do? Yes. Do they want to talk about it? No. The stiff upper lip of the English is my bread and butter, in more ways than one.

Shady Views retirement home is open for bookings all year round, coupons and early bird specials are available.

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

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