50 Shades of Shamwow

Intro

Albert Johnson wakes up a little past dawn. He slowly gets up out of his old, worn bed with a groan. He stretches and yawns. Little light shines through the large windows covered with deep purple curtains, making the room a gloomy place.

He walks toward the kitchen, where he will eat the breakfast he eats every morning- a cold biscuit with strawberry jelly. On his way, he stops to admire something.

His wall of Shamwows.

Ever since he saw the first commercial advertising the Shamwow! in 2006, he collected the superabsorbent towel. He was greatly amazed by its soaking properties; and at the low price of $19.99 for 8, how could he resist?

He started to use them in his everyday life, and he collected more and more. He used almost all of the money he earned from his substitute teaching job on the Shamwow. In just one year Albert had 248 of them. But using every dime he had on Shamwows came with a price. His wife, Grenda, left him because of his sick addiction to the rag. He started to push people away, and lost all of his friends. Now he lives in an old mansion in an abandoned part of town.

Albert stands there, looking at the Shamwows. He goes over all that happened, all that he lost in order to obtain them all. "I did the right thing," he quietly says to himself. He walks to the kitchen.

Albert slowly prepares his biscuit, spreading the jelly on in thick layers. He goes to sit down in his living room, where there is only one couch, a small television, and a table covered with boxes that contained the Shamwows when he ordered them. A button is pressed when he sits down to eat, turning on the television. He doesn't pay for cable, but he watches a tape that he has recorded all of the Shamwow! commercials on using his VCR. "Who needs cable when you have Shamwow?" he thinks to himself.

The first commercial comes on. "Hi, it's Vince from Shamwow," Vince Offer, the salesperson for the Shamwow!, says.

"Hi Vince, nice to see you again," Albert says to the screen.

"You'll be saying wow every time. It's like a shammy, it's like a towel, it's like a sponge. A regular towel doesn't work wet, this works wet or dry. This is for the house, the car, the boat, the RV. The Shamwow holds 20 times it's weight in liquid..."

As the commercial goes on, Albert eats his cold biscuit swiftly, wiping his face with a small Shamwow, because he got rid of paper towels years ago.

The commercial finishes. "That'll do for now," he says quietly. He gets up and cleans off his plate in the sink, drying it with the Shamwow! used as a dishcloth.

He walks to the bathroom to take a shower. A school called him for a substitute teaching job today, starting at 1:30. He stops to look in the mirror. He looks at his face, tan and full of wrinkles, and his hair, gray and in patches on his head. He steps into the shower.

After he gets out, he steps on to the bathmat made from a cut Shamwow!, and he dries off with a Shamwow!, too. He puts on a peach-and-white striped button up shirt, and khaki carpenter pants with a belt. Grabbing his bag and his wallet, he steps outside the door, to walk to the school.