It's The Thought That Counts...

The unknown customer-mistress tells me my face is filthy and needs a good wipe clean. She then kindly offers to wipe my face for me. Unfortunately, though, she chooses to use a dirty, oily rag from the nearby bin, and by the time she has finished wiping my face it looks even filthier and greasier than before!

She surveys her sloppy handiwork from on high before ordering me to kiss her feet and thank her for cleaning my face – which I do most ardently and with genuine, slavish gratitude. For though she may not have done a very good job on me, it’s very much the thought that counts!

She then drops the oily rag unceremoniously down onto the ground and walks off looking suitably pleased with herself.

As well she might!














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