ONCE UPON A TIME…

Three men stood around the magazine rack of a corner drugstore ogling the bathing beauties of the annual Swimsuit Issue. “Man, I love sports,” one of them declared without irony.

No sooner had the other two concurred than Cupid, the cherub-faced god of love, appeared before them adorned in nothing but a diaper and quiver of magic arrows.

Under normal circumstances, the men may have been startled, but not today. It was Valentine’s Day after all. In fact, the three of them had each originally wandered inside with intent to purchase the next-to-cheapest box of chocolates in the store and, thus, successfully prove to his significant other that he owned a calendar and/or loved her. But it was their love of sports that had distracted them for the moment.

And that is when Cupid saw his opening. Not an opening to make a love connection, mind you, but an opportunity to sell magazine subscriptions. It seems the god the Greeks called Eros had made the mistake of investing heavily in mortgage backed securities and now found himself in the unenviable position of requiring a second job to make ends meet. Luckily his unique skill set was the perfect fit for a mature sports periodical in search of innovative methods to goose its readership.

Cupid went straight to his pitch: For less than a dollar per issue they could have the finest in sports, swimsuit and Jessica Simpson reporting delivered right to their mailboxes.

The men were less than enthusiastic, and acted as if they could get all of these benefits elsewhere without paying for his product or services. Cupid had expected such a reaction as he found this to be a growing trend nationwide. So then the god of love unleashed the kicker that only he could deliver: If they subscribed today they could have “some quality time alone” with a bona fide swimsuit model!

Happy nods and hearty smiles followed, but, alas, they did not translate to sales.

“I’m sorry,” said the first man, “Yes, I love the rare and forbidden thrill of looking at women in bikinis, but I don’t think I could actually cheat on my wife. I would feel just terrible about it.”

This news disturbed Cupid, but like any good salesman he had a counter-offer at the ready. He proposed shooting the man in the buttocks with a magic arrow that would not only enable him to rise to the challenge, but to do so free of any and all guilt.

Now that was a different story. The man carefully reassessed his options and decided that this was indeed a once in a lifetime opportunity that was worth the minor risk.

So Cupid pulled back his bow, unleashed an arrow and…poof! The man was virile and confident and free of any and all guilt. Cupid took his credit card information and led him outside to the enamored swimsuit model, who was waiting for him in the magazine’s “special gift” trailer which, as you may have guessed, was in the shape of a telephone shaped like a football.

Nearly three minutes later the man emerged with a wide grin on his face. But it was short lived. His wife had been tipped off and now she stood before him demanding to know what he was doing. The man had no guilt, but, hey, he was no dummy. He tried a pathetic story about a free back rub and when that fell on deaf ears he brazenly reminded her that she knew going into this marriage that he was a sports fan. His loving wife then proceeded to beat him to a pulp.

This did not sit well with Cupid’s two remaining prospects. But he would not be denied. He promised the second man that he could shoot him in the buttocks with an even better magic arrow that would give him the same gusto and attitude to cheat guilt-free, but with the added bonus of the ability to tell the world’s most convincing lies.

“Now that’s an offer!” exclaimed the second man.

So Cupid pulled back his bow, unleashed an arrow and…poof! The man was virile, guilt-free and silver tongued. Without blinking an eye he handed over his credit card and skipped out to the trailer in the shape of a telephone shaped like a football.

Soon after, he emerged triumphantly. But the love of his life was waiting there for him, and she demanded an explanation. So the man winked and he smiled and he spun her beautiful lies of pure gold. But much to his surprise, her scowl did not straighten. It turns out that despite his guilt-free cheating and convincing lies, he still smelled of deceit. More specifically, he reeked of cocoa butter.

It took mere seconds for his sweetheart to connect the odorous dots to the sunbathing supermodel. So he, too, was severely beaten.

Cupid assumed that his third prospect was now surely a lost cause. But he was wrong. The third man was confident that he could learn from the missteps of his colleagues and get his hands on that prize with impunity.

He announced to Cupid with confidence, “I want you to give me the ability to cheat and lie but still come out smelling like a rose.”

So Cupid pulled back his bow, unleashed an arrow and…poof! The man turned into Andy Pettitte.