November 22, 2017

Leaving the house is for turkeys — do your holiday shopping from home

by

Certain prices are simply… insane.

It can be kept secret no longer: leaving the house blows. Consider the following:

  1. One is generally expected to wear pants.
  2. One is sharply cut off from access to beloved leftovers.
  3. The only thing to watch is some crap called “real life,” which has an incoherent storyline that takes forever to resolve.
  4. The cold. My god, the cold.
  5. There are human beings everywhere, and one is expected to interact with many of them.

So, yeah. Leaving the house stinks. Still, we’ve always needed it — until now!

This year, once you’ve had your fill of oohing and aahing over roasted landfowl, looking on in wonder as giant balloon-creatures take the streets, and tolerating the company of your melon-tweaking relatives, you can sit back, loosen your belt, and do some online shopping, secure that you will be, once again, reaping the fruits of our annual Black Friday Sale.

That’s right, pilgrims: tomorrow through Friday night, every single thing we sell—every tote, mug, shirt, bundle, and, indeed, every single book—will be marked down an additional twenty percent from our already discounted prices, for a total savings of forty percent. Forty percent? Forty percent.

Permit us to flesh the concept out in these imaginative dialogues with American folk hero Jane Q. Bookbuyer:

JQB: Black Friday Sale? Sounds like a lot of paperwork.
ML: Why, nothing could be further from the truth! Just peruse our website for what you want to buy, proceed to checkout, and—boom!—the discount will be applied automatically.

JQB: But, wait. Do these phenomenal deals apply even to complete series, like the Last Interview or Art of the Novella Series?
MH: As sure as winter follows fall, it is so.

JQB: Do I have to wear pants?
MH: No. We cannot stress this enough: our website remains perfectly functional across a wide spectrum of enpantednesses. Do you.

JQB: Melville House, you complete me.
MH: Back atcha.

 

MobyLives