Be the Balvenie Weenie®'s wingman.
The Weenie hasn't been laid since his nearly-empty bottle of 15-year-old Balvenie scotch was just barley germinating on the malting floor. His previous pickup attempts of this same local alcoholic blond all ended with the mouthless douche home alone in the dark, jerking off into old handkerchiefs while viewing secretary porn on the Internet. Anyway, to the present. Ivana Balvenie? Jesus Christ. Help him out, please. If you were the Weenie's wingman, what similarly idiotic (or foolproof?) line would you whisper into his stubby little ear?
For the previous 10 Balvenie Weenie® posts, start here.