"Hey, Greg, I just wanted to stop by and clear up any misunderstandings we might have had at the party Saturday night," I tell the lawyer sitting across the desk from me as I walk in, hand extended to shake.
He stands, a french cuff with a diamond studded cufflink extending from the sleeve of his Armani suit jacket. I reach out and take a hold, shaking and firmly holding his lotioned and manicured hand with my rough, callused mitt. I can see the discomfort and disgust on his face at my touch, which flares into anger and disbelief when I crush his carpals against one another and drag his hand towards me. His anger is just enough of a distraction he doesn't get a clear view of the tool in my left hand until the green rubber band snaps closed off the ends of the spreader.
"What the fuck?!?" he roars, drawing back and staring at his rapidly darkening pinky, the ring of green cutting off blood flow.
He panics, trying to roll the band off the end of his finger, but the trapped blood has made his gaudy gold pinky ring too tight to remove it or the elastic. He scrabbles at his desk drawer, waving the hurting hand around as he tries to find something to cut the rubber free. I snatch the scissors he finds out of his hand and wave them at him.
"You know what this is, Greg?" I ask, holding out the tool in my left hand as I take a seat in his visitor's chair. "Probably not, since I doubt your pampered ass ever got within 20 feet of an honest day's work in your whole life. This is an elastrator - an elastic band castrator. We use it on the ranch to remove things that cause problems - we dock tails with it, but mainly it's used to ensure that males with inferior genetics don't pollute our herd with their shitty characteristics. It's also surprisingly effective in calming down a buck who thinks too highly of himself. You see, once that band snaps shut, the blood stops flowing to whatever it's wrapped around. It doesn't take long, either. Slip one of those little devils around the scrotum of an aggressive or indiscriminate male, and it doesn't take but a couple of minutes for the fight to leave him."
Greg is panicking, waving his hand around, whimpering in pain.
I give him a sympathetic nod, "painful, huh? That's a good thing. Pain is a strong motivator, and a powerful teaching tool. It's also the key to your salvation, because when the pain in your finger finally stops, that means necrosis has already begun in the part that's been cut off from blood flow. Consider this your one and only warning, Greg, because if you so much as look at another man's wife wrong and I hear about it, the next two bands go around your tiny ball sack and that little prick you're so damn proud of. Ain't nobody gonna cry when your inferior stock get permanently removed from the gene pool. That pinky finger starting to go numb yet? You won't believe the stink once that flesh is dead and starts to rot off."
