Continue Reading Below Advertisement This is the story of how sometimes a fun experience, like playing marbles or enjoying a nice piece of cheese, or spelunking a loved one's nether chasms with a vibrator, can turn into something absolutely horrifying. So your marble rolls into a mud puddle, your cheese has mold on it, or the vibrator curiously transforms itself into a voracious, carnivorous, Saw-inspired tool of blood-craving insanity that only operates within the confines of a vagina.
So one afternoon it could have been evening but I like to think this was a nooner--it feels right , April Bonjour and her boyfriend were going to have some sexings. Was her boyfriend inadequate? Tired from eating all that cheese? They chose to use a toy to enhance their fun, however. And it did not work. Instead, Bonjour was all "Hello! Her boyfriend removed the offending toy and what followed was like that scene in The Shining when Wendy watches the elevator open and gush a veritable river of blood out into the hallway.
Did you know that if you watch that scene closely you can sort of almost see a body in all that blood falling out of the elevator? But wasn't the set a miniature set, and, if so, is that a miniature body? Think about that for later, it's totally irrelevant.
Although since we're here just now, try to imagine if Jack Nicholson and Shelly Duvall really had a kid. Wouldn't it look like Steve Buscemi? Moreso than the kid they cast in the movie, anyway? What is relevant is that Bonjour freaked right the fuck out, as you may expect you would do when you insert tab A into slot B expecting orgasm C and instead end up with blood clots D, E, and F, plus blood geyser G.
That's a whole alphabet of "oh shit. By the time she'd gone through every pad in the house and was bleeding even more heavily she decided it was time to hit up a hospital. Ladies, let this be a lesson to you: If you quite unexpectedly have about 10 periods in a row, in one afternoon, just go to the hospital.
At the hospital Bonjour required blood transfusions, and, as you might expect, she sued the company that made the vibrator because sexual blood bath is rarely anyone's desired outcome from using a sex toy. Alas, my search for an outcome in that case proved fruitless, but I like to think she was awarded half damages with a jury deciding she and her boyfriend were partly to blame, maybe as a result of him falcon punching it into her snatch or whatever. How the hell does a vibrator do that to you, anyway?