All of these lovely ladies love the Sega Master System... I know because they told me in a dream (
or was it???) that I think I had about them all last... night... It went a little something like this (
please imagine the picture going all wobbly and then fading out...)
...Father Krishna adjusted the belt on his crimson silk smoking jacket, as he strolled around his luxuriously furnished condominium, overlooking the opulence of the San Fernando valley. He chuckled silently and smugly to himself as he gazed across the vast living room at the ultimate and most expensive entertainment system, ever possessed by one man...
The multitude of gleaming 56" plasma screens were each hooked up by a single cable to a game console, chronologically encompassing the last 30 years of gaming history... All the major players were there... The Colecovision, Commodore 64, ZX Spectrum, Megadrive, Saturn, NES, N64, PS2 and so on... Every limited edition Dreamcast displayed neatly and compactly stacked side by side, and on a golden plynth, the Hi Saturn Navi, The Divers 2000 and the sparkling jewel in that jaded console crown... The Sega Master System.
A garrison of top secret Soviet prototype androids, each one bought with cocaine dollars from the Russian mafia after the collapse of the Berlin wall, stood erect, yet lifeless, souless, their Stalinesque visages smiling beatifically. Clasped in each cold robotic hand was a portable gaming system.
The rest of the room was furnished in a complimentary vulgar fashion... gaudy antiques, original masters in gilt edged frames, thick leather sofas, lazyboy recliners, vast bookshelves filled to the brim with sleazy 1950s pulp fiction, Liberace's jewel encrusted grand piano, framed Warhol screen prints, life size waxworks of Elvis, Joe Strummer and Fidel Castro. The thick lurid day glo pink shagpile carpet was festooned with skinned endangered animal rugs... hermaphrodite Lion, two headed Zebra, silverbacked Gorilla, albino Siberian tiger and so on...
Golden bowls, filled to the brim with exotic mushrooms and pungent narcotic herbs, lay scattered randomly on top of the over stocked bar... Every ale, wine, spirit and tincture known to man were crammed tightly amongst the cut crystal glasses, reflecting shafts of smoke filled sunlight from the narrow cracks between the heavy black velvet curtains.
As he swirled his 100 year old cognac around his diamond encrusted golden goblet, the stout, (yet ruggedly handsome) priest glanced at the heavy steel door that was slowly beginning to open... Silhouetted against the light was a three foot creature with a long grey beard and pointed hat, muttering in an ancient Mediterranean tongue, accompanied by an Elderly looking gentleman who seemed to be humming a long forgotten Celtic lullaby...
Father Krishna clapped his gnarled and weathered hands together, his many platinum rings clinking together as he did so... A platform rose from the centre of the room, and from it spilled a heavenly host of sweetly scented beauties, each clad provocatively in tight fitting white t-shirts bearing the legend "SEGA"...
... Sorry, my memory gets a bit hazy after that... Gnome? Can you remember what happened next?