Manonnaise

I got rejected at the sperm bank today. It wasn’t because my lil’ guys were bad or anything like that; it’s just that I attempted to barter with the nurse for a larger payment.

But let me start at the beginning. I was pondering what I could do to better serve humanity. Knowing me, I couldn’t do much, but then an idea hit me like a snow shovel.

There should be more me on this planet! I figured I was doing the world a disservice by hording my genetics. Something must be DONE!

Seeing as how no woman will come within 20 feet of my person, I came to the conclusion that I should hit up the local sperm bank and make a deposit.

Once there, I was shocked at the mere $75 dollars they were going to give me.

“My knuckle babies are in high demand!” I exclaimed. “I’m the peak of human development!”

I ordered that they shell out at least $50,000 (not including the time spent procuring my “manonnaise“).

That didn’t go over to well with the broad, so I wanted to see the doctor in charge. He told me that that’s not how it worked. There was a price cap, and that cap was $75 dollars.

I told him not to think of this as a donation, but to think of this as an investment.

$50,000 was steep, yes, but with a possibility of creating an army of people with my staggering intelligence, my rugged good looks and the strength of ten men, the world could be saved in under twenty years.

He said no.

Bastard was low-balling me, so I dropped my price to $30,000. It was at that point that he warned me he would call security.

“$15,000?”

I was promptly thrown out.

Fine. If humankind doesn’t want to be saved, then fuck them.