A busy executive is speeding through the back roads, trying to circumvent traffic when suddenly a row of spikes unexpectedly pop out of the ground causing his tires to blow out. He spins out of control and rolls into a ditch, cursing and shouting. His phone is dead, no signal in this backwoods rural area, but luckily there's a farm nearby. He hikes up the long dirt road, knocks on the door.
A BIG burly farmer, wearing nothing but boots and overalls, with a trim white beard like Santa opens the door. His hairy chest is exposed. His belly is big as a blimp. "Well howdy there!"
The executive explains what happened, demands to use the phone, rants, and complains about the state of the road in this part of town.
The farmer patiently listens, chuckles, and informs the executive that although he's not allowed to use the phone, he is is definitely more than happy to "take care of" him. He spreads his fat palm and blows a big puff of magic smoke that billows around the executive.
He coughs, waves the air. "Hey! What's the big idea? What the heck is that stuff." The smoke tastes sweet like surgar.
"Welcome to Big Poppa's farm!" the farmer Booms. "I'm going to be taking care of you from now on."
"What the hell are you talking about?" The executive is just about ready to punch this fat ass in the face, but suddenly he feels very strange. Kind of tingly all over. And moreover, he's getting flush with excitement and arousal, sporting a massive hard-on that's tenting his dress pants . . . .