Fast Times at Ridgemont High - A True Story

The Exer-Gro Plus

The Rat had developed the habit of coming home and checking the mail before anyone else. It was just a little routine he’d gotten into six weeks, to the day, after he’d ordered the Exer-Gro Plus back in March. The Rat knew all the bills by heart, all the junk mail. By now he was sure they’d mailed it to someone else.

On this day toward the end of the year, The Rat walked back to his house after school. He said hello to the kids next door who were always building something in the garage, and casually flipped open the mailbox.

It was a small square package. He knew the instant he saw it what it was. This was it, just in time for Grad Nite, too. The Exer-Gro Plus.

The Rat set down his books, went to the bathroom, did everything he possibly could do to delay the pleasure of opening his package. He wasn’t sure what it would be. Perhaps some kind of stretching device, an exercise machine. Whatever, he just hoped it didn’t take too long.

Now, to use a penknife or just rip it open? Of course. Rip that thing open. The Rat tore into it, separated the newspaper wrapping that had been used to pack it, and there it sat. The Exer-Gro Plus.

It was a rubber dickhead.

No special formula, no exercise machine, no nothing. Just a rubber dickhead. Phony as hell.

There was a letter with it:

It was a three-inch-high nine-dollar rubber dickhead. The Rat couldn’t believe it. He went back and reread the ad. There was nothing that promised it would be anything else. But it was still a rip-off! And it wasn’t like he could write the Action Line about this one. Shit. Besides, it didn’t even work. The Rat wore it into Safeway once, and it fell down his pantleg.