"NEUTICLES not only helps the dog's self-esteem but more importantly helps convince some owners to neuter their canines."
Dr. Mark Claus, Desert Inn Animal Hospital, Las Vegas, NV (Las Vegas Sun)
Whew, after reading THAT quote from our resident fan of Neuticles, I decided to go back to my Doberman and see what HE thought about Neuticles helping his self-esteem.
So off to the Neuticles store we went.
After a little searching, we ended up in an upscale neighborhood shopping center that also boasts of stores like Macy's, Neiman Marcus, Abercrombie & Fitch, Saks 5th Avenue, and of course, Neuticles of the Crystal Kennel.
Pretty prestigious company, I'd say.
As we strolled through the doors, I took a quick look around and whistled. So did my Doberman.
As far as the eye could see--in fancy, decoratively lit glass cases--there were hundreds, perhaps THOUSANDS of artificial testicles of all shapes, sizes and colors! Adorning the walls were posters of well-known breeds of dogs will their testamonials underneath.
One poster was of a Boxer with the line of "Neuticles put the punch back in my spirit."
Another poster of a Great Dane read, "Great Danes should always have great big ones!"
And a huge poster had a rather hussy-looking female with her paw around a studly looking German Shepherd and she was saying, "Why, I never knew he DIDN'T have a pair. Could've fooled me!" Both dogs were smoking a cigarette.
"Wow!" exclaimed my Doberman. "I've never seen so many balls before in my life!
"Well, hello there," said a clerk who came fritting up to us. "Welcome to Neuticles of the Crystal Kennel. My name is Pierre and I'm here to help you restore your self-esteem."
"Howdy, Pierre," I said, NOT offering my hand, "my Doberman and I were a little curious about this whole Neuticle thing and decided to come on down and take a look around."
"So glad you did, sir!" Pierre squealed. "You have immmmmpeccable timing because we just got in our '98 models!"
"Oh yeah?" asked my Doberman. "What's different about them from last year's models?
"Weeelllll," replied Pierre, "for starters, the '98s are lighter and have a sleeker more modern design."
"But who's gonna actually SEE them?" asked my Doberman. "I mean, I still got some "skin" back there with a little fur still covering it. These things fit INSIDE!"
"Oh, you silly pup," whined Pierre. "Details, details, details. Come, come. Let me show you the new Viber model."
"Viber model?" I asked. "That sounds like the name of a sport car or something."
"Listen," Pierre snapped. "Your dog makes the decisions around here. You, bub, are just here to flash your credit card--a gold one preferably, although we ARE partial to Platinum cards."
"OK, OK" I said, looking at my Doberman. "It's your call."
"So," asked my Doberman, "what makes the Viber model so special?"
"Well," answered Pierre, "they have a little motor in each one of them and a switch we wire to your collar. Hit the switch and these little babies vibrate and give you a soothing therapeutic massage in your nether region."
"Say WHAT?" my Doberman asked incredulously.
"They're vibrating balls, my dear pup," replied Pierre. "And they're simply divine. I ought to know, I have a set of them myself!"
I suddenly lost my appetite.
"Show me something else," said my Doberman.
"Sure. No problem," Pierre went on. "How about our Solar model? They come with a little solar panel that we stick on your forehead. Flick the switch and feel the warm, soothing rays of the sun on your nether region."
"Oh brother," the Doberman muttered.
"And, that's not all!" exclaimed Pierre--who was really starting to get into the spirit of things. "Why, at Neuticles of the Crystal Kennel, we carry ALL KINDS OF MODELS. We have them with sound chips so that they make a "clanging" sound when you walk. We have inflatable models that you can air up before going to a dog park or the beach. We have models that are painted in psychedelic colors, models that have homing beacons so that you can never get lost again, AND. . . just wait until the 1999 models come out!"
"What's so special about them," demanded my Doberman.
"VIRTUAL!" shrieked Pierre. "They're virtual so that we only implant a little chip in your brain and then you only have to THINK that you have balls!
"But why would I want to think THAT?" asked my Doberman. "IF I wanted to still have some pride(s) back there, I would've KEPT them and not have to IMAGINE having a set that simply ain't real! Do you understand THAT, Pierre?"
Pierre suddenly had a crestfallen look on his face.
"So tell me, Pierre," growled my Doberman. "Why would I want a set of clangers that ain't real, that I know ain't real and that my old man don't give a hoot whether I have or NOT? Got an answer, Pierre?!?"
Pierre began shaking uncontrollably and looking as though he was going to cry.
"Come on Dad, let's get outta here," said my Doberman.
On the way out the door, we heard Pierre talking to his manager. "Maybe," suggested Pierre, "maybe we ought to either develop a clear scrotum to show off our Neuticles, or we better start giving intelligence tests BEFORE they walk in the door."
This wonderful piece of satire was written by Jeff Kinman. He graciously consented to have us share it with you.
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