Shocking! Unbelievable! How depraved! These were some of the first things that came to mind when it was revealed to me that Michael (girly-boy) Caselli stole the girl of Vortran's dreams away to his seedy flat in London. It appears that he coerced this naive young thing into believing that he (Michael) was a big shot editor of widely read porno rag (or gambling magazine - whatever, same thing), and he promised her stardom and fame. Instead it was trickery of the most wicked and immoral kind. His "smuttiness" had only one thing in mind when he tricked her into his lair:
Photographic proof here: Caught red handed - you fiend!
Michael (girly-boy) Caselli in some seedy Soho bar with an inebriated Brontë - please note Michael's "girly" hair.
The sordid details:
Last week Vortran007, my little robot buddy, was pining away for Brontë his new found girlfriend and love of his robotic life. He confessed to me that he believed that she had eyes for another man - so to speak - she was not as affectionate as when they first met. She was a little more stiff than usual. He then showed me a cryptic email that he had downloaded, which came from some weirdo Hotmail address - littlewienie@hotmail.com. It was a series of numbers that didn't make sense. Well, they didn't make sense at first - Vortran showed this email to both me and Brontë.
Unbeknownst to us, this was a secret code that spelled out the flight numbers, times and dates of a flight out of Nürnberg to London. I don't know how Michael did it, but he got Brontë on that flight - and now she is in London - probably on drugs. And she's another victim of Michael's wicked ways.
And my poor little buddy's heart is broken; they were so happy together. I am appalled at this deviousness and debauchery. I don't even want to imagine what sleaze she is being subjected to. Please remember Michael, she is only a wooden model, and not a tool of your sickness. Please ask yourself, was this really worth it?
