Michael Turnbull Giant Tigers and Silver Dragons

I used to work as a sales bitch at a discount computer store. I didn’t have a ton of technical knowledge, but I knew how to sell warranties to middle-aged women, so all was good. It was a chill job, and I made decent commission from my deception. 

The problem was the boredom. Our location was less than ideal, and some of my coworkers alleviated their boredom in strange ways. I was young, so I always kept it pretty tame; I remember printing out dozens of animals on acetate and making the store look like the jungle…of computer savings.

But then there was Roman. Roman was intensely “European:” he smoked like a chimney, had a suave accent, and possessed one of those deceptively evil smiles. Perverse, you might call it. Roman had a thing for 18 year old girls, which would normally be fine except for the fact that he was 34. He was also an amateur photographer with a pretty nice SLR that he always brought to work.

He’d approach these young hotties under the pretense of customer service, and then show them his camera. “Have you ever done the modeling?” he’d ask in his vaguely sexy accent.

It worked every time: the girl would be flattered and caught off guard.

“You like these photos, yes?” he’d ask, cutting off their ability to disagree. He’d then proceed to show them some of his shots. They’d be interested at first – he wasn’t a bad photographer – until he got to the nudes. They were well-shot, sure. But most 18 year old girls weren’t fans about hearing how great the “lighting” was on the spread legs and giant tits of someone who could have been their classmate.

I loved watching Roman work, but sadly for him I don’t recall him ever successfully booking a “photoshoot” with a customer. 

We used to have store competitions in everything. Sometimes we competed in Tetris. At other times, we had a “who can show up the drunkest to work” battle. By far the most terrifying though, was “get the creepiest customer.”

A lot of people worry about bringing their computers in for service. They think that the support guys are going to rifle through their files and browser history. Generally, they won’t. But because our tech guys were so lazy, sales guys like Roman and I often found ourselves behind the tech counter, trying our best to fake the technical knowledge it would take to get our hands on a stranger’s PC.

One day my fellow sales bitch Alex called me over. “Mike! You’ve GOT to see this.”

Two guys had come in to drop off a PC for a virus cleanse. Alex had hooked it up to a monitor and turned it on. The guy’s desktop loaded, and it was a heavily stretched, pixilated image of a silver dragon battling a giant tiger. Wicked.

My friend navigated to a folder on the desktop, aptly enough named “Tigers and Dragons.” The first photo was his desktop image: the pencil sketch of a dragon on tiger battle royale. There were a few more, with the tiger and dragon in different poses. As we flipped through the images, the sketches became small plush dolls. 

My friend laughed. I was afraid.

The plush dolls were posed as friends, just hanging out. Slowly they were posed into fighting positions, and eventually, sexual ones. These guys had made their own stop-motion plush doll fuckfest! There were position switches, slaps across the face, and even a peaceful snuggle at the end (3 images long.) 

“What do you think?” Alex asked me.

I was speechless. “Pretty fucked up man.”

“We’re not done yet.”

He continued flipping through the pictures. Now the two men were standing there, dressed in plain clothes. Slowly, they undressed each other.

“I don’t know man” I said. “They’re still in the store!”

“Don’t worry, this is fucking crazy” he assured me.

The two men were down to their boxers now. As Alex continued through the photos, I was expecting two naked men and a facefull of dick. I was wrong. 

One man began redressing the other, helping him get his legs into the holes of his tiger costume. He helped him get the zipper up and then started getting into his dragon outfit. By this point I was giggling and mumbling “oh my god what the fuck” over and over again, generally pretty entertained. 

They did it all. There were shots of the dragon on the tiger’s back, riding around; shots of the tiger flying on the dragon’s flat back; and tons of furious dry humping between these two majestic mythological creatures. There was spanking, there were gags, there were blindfolds. The scene eventually devolved into the two men banging the shit out of each other on a bed of cast-off fabric.

They won the “creepiest customer” contest that week, and for life, and I learned a valuable lesson about rifling through people’s computer files. 

 

 

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