Fake Hand

Description

We all know the guy. He’s 32 years old and still thinks aggressively mashing his face into a girl’s face is the pinnacle of romance. He goes on first dates and attacks women like he’s bobbing for apples. He has the physical finesse of a Golden Retriever trying to eat a spoonful of peanut butter, and the local Hinge population is starting to draft a warning list.

So you intervene. You hand him this.

You are giving him a disembodied chunk of synthetic human anatomy. You slide this slab of silicone flesh across the table, look him dead in the eye, and say, “Hey man, the reviews are in. You need to run some drills before you’re allowed back on the field.”

It says it’s for “experienced beginners,” which perfectly describes his entire dating history. You are literally forcing a grown man to take a remedial class in basic human intimacy.

Imagine the absolute psychological devastation of his Tuesday night. He’s sitting on his couch, the TV is on mute, and he is forced to rigorously practice his technique on a rubber desk ornament just so he stops traumatizing women at the Applebee’s bar. It is the ultimate “back to the drawing board” insult. You are treating his romantic life like he’s trying to get his learner’s permit, and every time he looks at this terrifying, fleshy paperweight, he is reminded that his factory settings are completely busted.