Slathering Lotion

Bronson squirmed around on his bed for three hours. He was hungry, and had only eaten 3 chicken nuggets that day. As time passed he thought about his visit to the orphanage in Belfast. He smiled as he recalled the look on the children's faces when he told them that Santa Claus wasn't real. He rifled through his memories, but there wasn't much worth remembering.
The doorbell rang at 8:38. It was Linda and she was holding a bottle of Slathering Lotion. She loved to rub it on his underarms and other unmentionable extremities.
Bronson just had to laugh. After all, he knew that it would take more than a Slathering Lotion H.J. to save his wicked soul...