My rejected McSweeney's submission

For those of you who read the site more for me than for sports, enjoy this submission that the people at McSweeney's rejected. ("This doesn’t fail to amuse, but I’m afraid I’m going to pass. Thanks for considering us for it. Hope you’ll keep trying.") The rest of you, scroll, scroll, scroll.

This Henchman Relationship Isn't Working Out

Look, Felina, I think you're completely great. You're really smart, I love your laugh and the way you roll your Rs, it’s cool that you make a lot of money, and you are, hands down, the most beautiful woman I've ever met. But I really need to take a minute and think about where this relationship is going. I just don't think we've been very honest with each other.

I'll go first. When you came up to me in that waterfront dive bar and asked if I needed a job... well, yeah, I did, but that wasn't the kind of job I was expecting. Especially not dressed the way you were. I've always had a thing for girls in boots, and who carries a whip these days? You can see how I got confused. So when you asked me if I've ever done anything really crazy, and if I'd do anything for you, you have to know that I thought you were just flirting.

Also, I was really, really, really horny right then. And pretty drunk. And sleepy. Especially after you got me that beer.

Then you took me back to your place, but instead of hooking up, you introduced me to the other guys that are living in your space. I was pretty bummed out. I thought we had something special, you know, just me and you, and I don’t do other dudes. It’d be different if there were other girls, but not dudes. And I'd have probably left right then and there, but as I said, I got really sleepy.

Besides, you do have a big screen and an XBox in the break room, and I couldn't help but think you must be loaded, seeing how big your place is. Who’s got a massive underground complex? I just figured your folks were in real estate.

So, sure, I ate your food and hung out with Fluffy and Whiskers and Leo, and they were cool. They kept saying really nice things about you, and how you had a big job planned that was going to make us all a lot of money. So I thought, well, OK, I guess I can call out sick from my job and see where this goes. And when you gave me those new work clothes, I was pretty pumped. I didn't even mind that they looked like everyone else's. I just thought you found a sale. Rich people are funny about not spending money on stuff like that.

Next, you got us all in the car, and then you got all paranoid about being quiet when we went into your bank. Well, that was confusing. I know you’re rich and all, but why did you have to go into the vault when there was a perfectly good ATM outside? I just don’t get it.

Then, just as we’re about to leave, your freaking *ex* shows up, and he’s dressed all weird and pissed off. That dude has issues. I tried to tell him that we hadn't even *done* anything yet, so don’t be so freaking jealous… and he just says some weird shit and starts punching everyone in the face. Who does that?

Especially to poor old Fluffy. I think he's got a condition.

And then your prick ex nails me in the back of the head when I’m not looking and knocks me for a loop. Why didn’t you call him off, rather than just standing in the corner and yelling?

Anyway, I'm glad you tasered that guy while I was knocked out, but why were you all over him when I woke up? You say he means nothing to you, but the way you were on top of him and tying him up… well, it was just weird. You told me it was all a big joke and laughed that laugh of yours, and maybe I’m not as smart as you, but it didn’t seem that funny.

Look, I don’t mean to be ungrateful after all you’ve done for me, and I’m trying really hard to be understanding about this. But I think you need to go talk to someone about your relationship with your ex. I mean, that guy is just an *asshole*. Whiskers lost a tooth, I think Leo's got a concussion, and Fluffy won’t stop shaking. Your ex needs some freaking therapy.

Anyway, back to us. Felina, why did you have to say those hurtful things to me and the others when your ex snuck out? It's not our fault that you used to date psychos who are good at untying knots, and I’d have thought you would be glad that he got the hint and left. And words hurt, Felina. Words hurt. Almost as much as that whip of yours.

Anyway, I don't want to lose what we've got, but unless you apologize and tell me what’s really going on, I'm not sure I can see you anymore.

Oh, and one last thing, Felina.

My name is Scott. Not Boris. *Scott*.