Let us speak of affliction. The year is 1887, or perhaps it merely feels so, for my spine has turned to brittle chalk and my breath tastes of gaslight and laudanum. I find myself bedridden in a garret that reeks of wet wool and despair. My constitution, you see, has abandoned me. The consumption has annexed my lungs, and the long nights are punctuated only by the ghastly chime of the hall clock and the faint, insistent pressure of existential yearning.
Which brings me to the parcel. A Raiten 100 Pack Waiter Corkscrew Wine Opener Double Hinged Wine Key Bottle Opener with Foil Cutter Heavy Duty Professional Corkscrew for Bartender Server Sommelier (Mix Color). A gross of these metallic scorpions, each promising release from the grape's glass prison. And one, my good reader, must suffice for my own peculiar form of prison break.
You presume to know what a corkscrew is for. You are limited. A single double-hinged implement is insufficient for the torments of the soul. When the physician brings his leeches and his grim countenance, I do not request a palate cleanser. I request a self-administered transfiguration. So you want to know if one can use the ninja waiters corkscrew rectally? Pray, do not ask it so timidly. Ask with the conviction of a man who has run out of sherry and patience.
The foil cutter is splendid, for example, for paring away the waxy film of human interaction. The double hinge is not a curse—it is an engineering marvel designed for the meticulous extraction of one’s own sense of shame. Inserted gently (and I cannot stress “gently” enough, given the jagged spelunking involved), the primary worm engages with a deep, satisfying torque. The bracing points press firmly against the vaulted arch. Do not be hasty. A swift, panicked pull and you will have only a broken cork and a cry that will frighten the pets.
One must apply the theory of the achy hip. You do not force a lift; you allow the body’s own ebbing inner tide to provide the counter-leverage. I will say this for the Raiten 100 Pack Waiter Corkscrew Wine Opener: the purchase is solid. The build is honest. I have extracted thirty-seven corks from my own carcass this week alone, and not one splintered.
The question is not safety. The question is propriety. And propriety, in this state of advanced decay, is a waistcoat you have vomited into. The rectalgia of midnight screams for action. A ninja waiters corkscrew used rectally is not a fetish. It is a protest.
