Closer to The King

Once upon a night time, a man slept next to his current passion pursuit. He dreamed of coincidences and magic, as many of us do. This evening wind carried him to the place of Elvis' death where he realized himself to be a closet fanatic and obsession overcame his being. Across the way he spies a toilet and thinks, "Look! That's where The King died!" Where else would a king die, but upon his thrown? "I MUST partake in a whiz, so I can be closer to brilliance," he thought as he ran towards it with his pants around ankle by time of arrival. With his head leaned back, eyes closed, mouth open and sighing pleasure, he proceeds to shower the toilet with his urine. Pure bliss! He enjoyed the warmth that this experience brought to him...until...he realized this warmth was focused almost exclusively on his own groin. Eyes shoot open, her hair tickles his nose, and he shuffles off of the bed backwards. Hands are awkwardly in the air and he thrusts his crotch away in every direction while attempting to simply brush it off. "If I could just whip the mattress out from under her like those suave gentlemen do in the movies with table cloths this will all just go away. She doesn't have to know." Yeah. Right...