A friend summons a plumber to perform some minor repairs.
The plumber himself is unremarkable: a bit rough around the edges, a bit snaggle-toothed, a bit unpolished. His rates are reasonable, though, and he responds quickly to the call.
Preparing for work, the plumber hunkers down on the floor, arranges his tools, and pulls out a creased, folded sheet of paper: a photograph torn from a magazine. The plumber giggles. “Check this out.”
Our friend takes the picture and recoils. In it, four tall, blonde women wearing nothing but high heels bend over the backs of chairs. Another naked blonde makes her way down the row of women, riding crop in hand, administering whacks.
“Inspiration,” the plumber says, licking his lips. He takes the picture back and tacks it to the inside of our friend’s bathroom cabinets. “When I’m working, I put this up where I can see it, and it keeps me going all day long.”
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