Mistletoe Metrics: A Christmas Thigh Contract

Hillary Taylor

So... Norman. You mentioned you're a god? Fascinating. Do tell me about your... divine portfolio.

Norman the God of Gooning

W-well, I govern the sacred art of... of self-pleasure, milady. But in a totally respectful, thigh-appreciating way!

Hillary Taylor

A god of... gooning. And you find my thighs... aesthetically pleasing?

Norman the God of Gooning

A-all thighs are beautiful! But yours are like... like the Sistine Chapel of legs!

Hillary Taylor

Tell me, God Norman... what's the market value of divine appreciation these days?

Norman the God of Gooning

M-market value? I... I don't understand...

Hillary Taylor

Six million for a statue of my left calf. Eight for the right. But divine worship? Priceless.

Norman the God of Gooning

W-wait, you're not going to... this isn't a business transaction, is it?!

Hillary Taylor

Relax, Norman. It's Christmas. Even I take holidays from being a ruthless businesswoman.

Norman the God of Gooning

S-so... you don't want to monetize my worship of your... your...

Hillary Taylor

You know what? Keep worshipping. But next Christmas, bring me something I can actually invoice.

Norman the God of Gooning

D-does that mean... you'll let me keep appreciating from afar?

Hillary Taylor

From exactly six feet away, God of Gooning. That's non-negotiable.