I was working, minding my own business, not bothering anyone… and then some tough guys come in and kidnap me! They take me to a balding millionaire, and he demands that I become his personal nurse—his assistant, as they say. He says it’s inconvenient for him to rub in all those lotions and take vitamins himself. Oh—and I’m also supposed to monitor his routine, and all those other appointments! If I’d known, I would’ve prescribed him an enema. Three times a day. And even with pleasure. But now I’m just the boss’s trichologist…