This excerpt is from Dave Lundy’s new novel, “Zero F*cks Given” (still in development) — the prequel to the bestselling comedy “Squish the Fish: A Tale of Dating and Debauchery”.
On the desk in Tracy’s office, there was a studio microphone, a set of headphones, a VCR, and a small, box-shaped TV. Tracy put on the headphones, which were large and covered her ears, and popped in the videotape she had been sent. Its title, “When Harry Ate Sally”, flashed on the screen.
A little frightened, yet very curious, she shrugged — Work is work. You see, Tracy had the type of voice that oozed sex. One time at synagogue, while reading a passage from the Torah, she managed to arouse ninety-percent of the congregation. Now majoring in broadcast journalism at the University at Buffalo, one of her audition tapes landed in the right hands and led to a part-time job doing voice-overs — actually, more like moan-overs — for pornographic movies.
Tracy watched Harry and Sally start their drive from Chicago to New York City. The atrocious acting, horrific dialogue, and road-head that followed was par for the course. She fast-forwarded the movie, watching the actors boink at high-speed like rabbits until she reached the famous diner scene — the one where Harry and Sally banter about women faking orgasms. Harry claimed that no woman has ever faked it with him, and then he proceeded to climb under the table to prove it.
In sync with Sally’s crescendoing orgasm, Tracy pounded the table and shouted her own version of “Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh!” into the microphone. When Sally finished and all eyes were on her, a woman at nearby table repeated the original line from the movie and told her waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having.” Naturally, the waiter was more than happy to oblige and, in a similar fashion to Harry, “serviced” the woman. Then, just like in real life, an orgy broke out.
Sally, now engaged in a threesome, said the dirtiest things during the rare times her mouth was phallus-free. Slurping and voicing-over these parts was easy for Tracy, but she recognized her muffled-gagging skills still needed some work. Fully immersed in the film, Tracy closed her eyes and genuinely moaned. She then had a worrisome feeling — not because of the unholy things being done to Sally’s holes, but because the two men sandwiching her onscreen-identity reminded her of Zabka and Magnum — an unexpected turn-on. She admonished herself, I’d never!
Tracy thought back to when they all lived in the UB Ellicott dorm. She remembered them partying and acting like idiots, but also being “nice guys” — maybe too nice.
While Meg Ryan’s X-rated doppelgänger was getting stuck more than a pincushion, the well-hung gentleman with a curly blond mullet — Zabka’s twin from the waist up — flexed his pecks. At the same time, another stallion’s face was buried deep between her legs, eating her Happy Meal. Upon completion, his head arose, exposing his glistening Magnum-like mustache. As the scene came to a dramatic, DNA-filled conclusion, the only logical recommendation from the Department of Public Health would’ve been to torch the diner.
Tracy stopped the video, took off her headphones, and wiped the sweat from her brow. Not having thought about Zabka and Magnum in a while, her feelings were conflicted. Whatever happened to those dimwits?