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#SexyTime Friday is back! Have you been telling everyone about Excellent. Most excellent, indeed! Don’t forget to “follow” all the way at the bottom of this page! Time flies when you’re oily. 25 excerpts. Wow. I know that your life has been enriched by my writing — not just in the bedroom, but in your day-to-day activities. You’re welcome. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation.


Did you know that recent polls have indicated that “Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram” is now the most common bedroom ‘safe word’ among couples?


He’s both a lover and a fighter, because, as he says, “Why choose?”

He’s the most oily man in the world.

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #25 [Chapter 100]

Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati felt her heart racing and perspiration accruing under her sterile surgical gown, mask and gloves. There was no time to think though. “Breathe. Just react. Rely on your years of training at India’s finest medical institutions.” she thought to herself.

Yet despite these vain attempts to assuage her fears, her hands began to demonstrate a fine tremor.

“Focus on the patient and the task at hand.” implored Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, her mentor, her idol, and the object of her desire. How could the Brown Knight have astutely discerned such a subtle demonstration amid the chaos of endlessly oozing blood collecting in their patient’s chest wall cavity?

The telemetry unit indicated that this woman’s body was crashing before their eyes.


Let me go.”

Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati suddenly turned towards the patient’s face. Were her ears deceiving her? Had she just heard the critically-ill patient whisper? Impossible! In a moment, she grew ashamed as she realized this auditory hallucination was a product her own devious wishful thinking.

For years, Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati had urged Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram to take Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini off life support. “There’s no hope for her to meaningfully recover from this coma” she would be plead with the Brown Knight on so many evenings while he dutifully adjusted her intravenous medication dosing and toggled her ventilator settings.

But Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati knew that her medical recommendations were selfishly intended to finally, at long last, have Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram all to herself. She wanted him. She wanted to own him. She wanted to own everything about him. His thick, lustrous mustache. His intoxicating aroma of curry. His…..hairy body.

MORE GAUZE!” urged the Brown Knight, as he attempted to cauterize a ruptured blood vessel which sprayed ruby red blood onto both of their gowns.

Suddenly, the telemetry alarm morphed from rapid beeping to a constant sickening tone. Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini had flatlined. Asystole. Cardiovascular collapse. Physiologic death.


Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati instantly glanced at Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s deep brown eyes, and witnessed a profound intensity, the depths of which she had never before been witnessed.

Electrical paddles were promptly deployed around Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini’s heart. The conduction jolted her body after the Brown Knight tensely announced “All clear!


Nothing. Flatline. Pulseless.

Another electrical shock.

Same result.

Yes, Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati felt sorrow for the loss of one of their patients. Yet she also began to experience hope that her time had now arrived. Her moment in the sun. Her opportunity to bask in the glow of the Brown Knight’s undivided affections.

SAROJASMITASARISHASHARMILASUBHASHINIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!” shrieked Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram in his deep voice. His primal scream triggered reverberations felt throughout the hospital and adjacent cities.

The Brown Knight commanded his subservient anesthesiologist to hand over the liquid potion which had been incubating in a warming machine within the operating suite. The anesthesiologist hesitated out of sheepish concern about its potency, at which point Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram forcefully grabbed the plastic bag, held it over Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini’s exposed heart, and ripped open the container to dump the contents into her cracked-open chest.

Coconut oil. Of course!


The Brown Knight began to manually massage his patient’s heart with coconut oil gliding between his gloved fingers. His powerful hands squeezed all four chambers, thereby delivering blood to the rest of her dying organs. The lubricant coated her diaphragm, her lungs, her trachea, and her internal pump. Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram continued this heroic act while the astonished surgical team stood in awe of his clutch mastery of the human body.

And then….out of nowhere….a pulse was regained. The telemetry unit began to methodically beep once again. Her heart began to spontaneously beat, as the Brown Knight’s loosened his tight grip on her heart.

Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini, now resuscitated, suddenly sat up to face her savior, her lips tantalizingly close to kissing Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s surgical mask, but not close enough to ruin her chances at being a good little Indian girl with any physical contact whatsoever.

As they stared into each other’s eyes, tears flowed from beneath Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati’s protective goggles. Her quivering voice mustered enough volume to utter “But….how?… How did this work? This is a medical impossibility…A miracle…

Dr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram briefly turned toward Poornimapushtipadmapriyapremaparvati before resuming his relentless gaze into the eyes of Sarojasmitasarishasharmilasubhashini while whispering “The only miracle is coconut oil’s potential. Never underestimate the power of coconut oil. Never…”

DON’T FORGET TO SCROLL ALL THE WAY DOWN TO FOLLOW and read the romantic adventures of the Brown Knight starting with excerpt #1!

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#SexyTime Friday is back again! Please “FOLLOW” at the very very bottom of this page, and tell all your friends and family about! And as always, use coconut oil in moderation!


Bad girl

Indian girls are trained from a young age to avoid the perils of becoming a “bad girl”

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #24 [Chapter 95]

Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi never wanted this buzz to end. She was unapologetically having the time of her life with her girlfriends, sipping champagne, and sharing stories in this posh penthouse hotel suite rented by her petroleum tycoon father.

Yes, tomorrow she would be married off to a local mango nectar mogul. But tonight? She planned on living it up at her bachelorette party.

She couldn’t think of tomorrow. “Carpe diem,” she whispered to herself

With each sip of bubbly, she could feel each of her million inhibitions melting away, one at a time. She had grown weary of maintaining that “good little Indian girl” reputation by dutifully completing Bharatanatyam dance training, focusing on her studies, learning how to make her rotis round, and never ever even daring to look at a boy.

Amidst the feminine debauchery in this luxury loft, she began to experience panic about how she would face her groom the very next day.

Would she wilt under the pressure to perform?

 If he looked at her, would she be able to muster the courage to look right back at him?

Would her body be able to handle the intimate touch of a man?

Her anxiety was suddenly interrupted by a series of firm knocks on the hotel room door.

Who could that be? Room service at this hour? They hadn’t ordered any samosas from the kitchen!

The shocked women cast worried glances at each other out of fear that each of their respective fathers stood beyond that door, poised to end this glorious night intended to secretly achieve sexual emancipation for all members of this entourage.

Were their naughty plans about to be foiled? Would they be forced to shamefully bare a scarlet letter in the Mumbai community for their indiscretions?!

More knocks. This time more loud, more purposeful.

One of Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi’s former classmates momentarily fainted from the paranoia, since she had sipped her first champagne on this epic night. But there was no running from this. No escape. Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi instructed her best friend to “allow the guest to enter and glide in.”

As the door was unlocked and slowly swung open, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram came into view, much to the relief and delight of the horde of desperate women. Upon seeing the Brown Knight, Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi’s former classmate who had been revived from passing out, now fainted yet again.

The Brown Knight, clad in a trenchcoat, walked towards the ovulating females. His presence startled her friends, but Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi knew that he and her father were close business associates with multiple mutual ventures throughout the great nation of India. She assumed that he owed her father a favor. Or maybe, just maybe, she had caught his attention during investment meetings when he saw her in family portraits displayed at her father’s office?!

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram continued to methodically walk past the group towards the massive windows which provided an awe-inspiring panoramic nocturnal view of the downtown Mumbai skyline. As he faced away from the staring group of ladies, he finally paused when he had reached the glass barrier. He just stood there for what seemed like an eternity as the women’s silence was only interrupted by the Indian disco pop music that had been playing on the radio as the soundtrack for this evening.

Then….he began to take off the trenchcoat in slow-motion. It became clear that he was topless, but, in one instant, all the witnesses in unison wondered if they would get the answers to the questions that had tormented them for years: What does the Brown Knight use as an undergarment? Boxers? Briefs? Boxer-briefs? Or does he wear nothing at all, daring to go commando?!

As the trenchcoat slipped downward off his body and fell to the floor behind his feet, Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi gasped at the Brown Knight’s custom-made speedo, with an Indian leopard pattern in the front and the Miami Heat basketball emblem on the back.

Indian leopardHeat speedo

Tempting body hair tufts protruded from his small underwear and peeked out along his inner thighs. His whole immaculate body glistened from coconut oil that had been applied to every inch of his skin. Beads of coconut oil raced down from under his speedo, down his inner thighs, along his powerful hamstring muscles, and around his strong calves.

Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi focused on the speedo as the Brown Knight rotated thrice for all to see the glory of his special close-fitting bikini. Meanwhile, the moaning women gazed at the tempting contours and bulges. After his spinning showcase had completed, he once again faced away from the bachelorette party.

Slowly, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram raised his arms upward and placed his palms firmly against the window panels.

Then, he began to twerk.

Ah, the serene majesty of witnessing the imposing Mumbai skyscrapers in the background and the Brown Knight’s shaking booty in the foreground!

His masterful textbook pelvic thrusts highlighted his chiseled musculature and unparalleled core strength. Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi felt as though she could see every fiber of his gluteus contracting over and over and over…She became hypnotized by the bouncing “Miami Heat” logo, experiencing epiphanies that the Miami Heat is one of the greatest basketball clubs in history and that nobody should ever doubt the godfather of that franchise: the incomparable Pat Riley.


She wiped drool from the corners of her mouth, as she watched the Brown Knight continue to twerk.

Oh, what stamina the Brown Knight possesses!

The twerking went on and on and on….And she wanted him to never stop. Never.

Slowly, Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi reached into her purse and fumbled for her mobile phone, not daring to take her eyes off the swiveling rear end in front of her face. She clumsily typed a text message to her fiancé: “Hai. How R U? U R out. Wedding off. Bye now.”

Vasundharadhaanyalakshmiharinakshi paused for a brief moment, looked dreamily at Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s gyrating firm butt, and then, without hesistation, she pushed the “SEND” button to deliver her message which opened the door to endless possibilities…

Did you know that Dr Pablo Pistola (the author) has been trained by revered twerking masters? You can read about Dr Pistola (@drpablopistola on Twitter) here:


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#SexyTime Friday is upon us again! And today’s excerpt will resonate with any traveler who has visited my Mother Homeland. Remember, it is always darkest before dawn. Please “follow” (on the right sidebar on laptops, and at the very very bottom on your smart phone). And as always, use coconut oil in moderation.

For those of you who have been asking about the author (@drpablopistola), here is a link with my story:



“Don’t hate the player. Hate the coconut oil.”

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #23 [Chapter 93]

Gwendolyn Mary-Katherine Elizabeth Oldershaw Nightingale Honeybun Robertson-Phillips-Beckingsdale Piddlebury knew that she would have to step outside her own personal boundaries on this voyage. But even with these expectations, she felt so alone and…scared. She felt as though she had prepared herself for this moment by voraciously reading textbook after textbook about colonial India while she still remained in her native Isle of Great Britain.


Yet here she was, nearly suffocating in an Indian outhouse, utterly confused about how to use the potty.


Nobody had warned her. Nobody had offered her reassuring guidance. Nobody had cared to look at things from her perspective.

Panic overwhelmed Gwendolyn Mary-Katherine Elizabeth Oldershaw Nightingale Honeybun Robertson-Phillips-Beckingsdale Piddlebury as she scanned the latrine. No toilet paper to be found anywhere. The wetness. The lack of air circulation.

Oh, what she would have given to be back in Staines-Upon-Thames England at high tea spreading splendid marmite on delightful buttered toast at this very moment!


She searched for a manual with instructions but came up empty-handed. Nothing.

Paralyzing fear caused every muscle fiber in her body to tense up, as sweat dripped off her body. She had no other choice. The only nuclear option left for her to attempt was to bellow a primal scream to the heavens above for redemption, as she became consumed with dread that she would perish in this primitive bathroom, and that her virgin womb would never experience the pleasure of fertilization.




Deafening silence.

Her life force seemed to fading from her body…

And then suddenly, at the moment of greatest despair, a masculine voice projected from behind the locked outhouse door, like a beacon of hope.

“May I offer my guidance, sweet Madam?” whispered Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

What ho! Pip pip!” yelled the relieved Gwendolyn Mary-Katherine Elizabeth Oldershaw Nightingale Honeybun Robertson-Phillips-Beckingsdale Piddlebury, now spared from imminent doom. “Kind Sir, I shan’t ask for another favor evermore should you guide me through this treacherous process of cleaning up after my explosive diarrhea which afflicts every visitor to this Great Nation of India!

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram whispered “Use….the dipper…..and your left hand.”

The Brown Knight was her northern star.

Of course! Use the small cup with a handle, the tepid water in the bucket next to where she squatted, and her left hand to clean up this mess! Why didn’t she think of this practical methodology earlier?!


Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram maintained his lifeline by instructing her on the sterile Indian way of hygienically cleaning the nether-regions after use of the facilities. She would remain eternally grateful to this ambassador, as he continued to guide her through the fail-safe hand-cleansing process of using stagnant water and the same sandalwood soap bar that had been used beforehand by the entire village.

As she completed this unforgettable experience and eagerly anticipated facing her hero who stood only a few feet away from her outside the latrine, Gwendolyn Mary-Katherine Elizabeth Oldershaw Nightingale Honeybun Robertson-Phillips-Beckingsdale Piddlebury became concerned about making a first impression.

Timidly, she said “Good Sir, I’m afraid that my breath smells worse than a herd of a thousand pikeys who haven’t bathed in well over a year!

The Brown Knight whispered “Unlock the door and pry it ajar, and I will be your salvation…

Timidly, Gwendolyn Mary-Katherine Elizabeth Oldershaw Nightingale Honeybun Robertson-Phillips-Beckingsdale Piddlebury cracked open the door, as the blistering Indian sunlight rushed into the damp latrine. A shadow slowly cast on her face, as Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram extended his pointer finger, covered in tooth powder, into the outhouse towards his damsel in distress, as the throbbing member then seductively penetrated her mouth to brush against her teeth…

tooth powderbrush teeth

I would like to take this opportunity to thank two people for inspiring and assisting with this chapter in my book:
1) My dear, dear family member (who requests to maintain anonymity) who hails from Harlton, England, and acted as a consultant for this offering

2) NPR correspondent extraordinaire Wilbur Sargunaraj (follow him on Twitter: @wilburworldwide) for inspiring this romance excerpt. He is my personal hero. His exhaustive explanation of proper Indian latrine use can be seen at the following YouTube link:


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#SexyTime Friday is upon us! Based on the popularity of the previous video reenactment at the end of excerpt #19, I once again hired some American actors to reenact nearly the entire storyline of today’s excerpt (#22)! Click the YouTube link at the end! Also, at the very end, as an additional treat, I have posted some artist depictions of the Brown Knight for your enjoyment. Please “follow” by entering your email address on the right side bar (on laptops) or at the very very bottom of this page (both laptops & phones). If you want to experience the adventures of the Brown Knight from the very beginning, scroll all the way down to the bottom and start with excerpt #1. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation.


Please spread the word about (the website is so easy to remember!)


Sometimes, as an author, I become consumed by my satirical Indian romance writing.

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #22 [Chapter 90]

With purpose, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram revved his automobile engine and navigated through the chaotic Chennai traffic at a top speed of 2 kilometers per hour, inexplicably honking his horn every two seconds, just as every other driver in the great nation of India does while they flagrantly disregard the few toothless traffic laws that may or may not even exist.

Traffic 1traffic 2


The suffocating, warm air flowed through the Brown Knight’s hair as his open convertible top exposed him to adoring swarms of pedestrians who screamed his name as the car slowly whizzed by them. The whipping air squeezed his glorious mustache, wringing out beads of coconut oil which wandered outward across his cheeks to blend in with the lubricant that had been applied to his skin by four maidens earlier. His cooling glasses cloaked the intensity of his deep brown eyes. He tactically swerved to avoid each stray chicken that aimlessly meandered through the street, even reaching his hand out of his convertible to pet the cow which sat in the middle lane of the highway in this bustling metropolis.

Then, suddenly, the engine started to sputter. The convertible slowed down from the rapid speed of 2 kilometers per hour, to 1 kilometer per hour, then to a grinding halt. The Brown Knight turned the key in the ignition, but the engine would not turn. The car was out of petroleum!

Without any hesitation, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram exited the convertible, and began running in his designer chappal sandals. His speed of a gazelle was a sight to behold, as he was gliding through the Chennai urban landscape, like a jackrabbit defiantly maintaining paces ahead of the trailing pack of hounds. As he encountered innumerable debris blocking his path, he hurdled across them using agile parkour techniques. Soon enough, he darted into the Sri Meenakshi Siva Vishnu Ranganatha Subramaniya Vrundavana Temple.

Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka Robinsonandra thought back to her interview process during her arranged marriage bids, when she sang “Sa Re Ga Ma Pa” musical notes and sat separating dhal lentils on a plate while her suitors surveyed the fairness of her skin. The exhaustive dowry negotiation process, initially thwarted by a resolved dispute over the inclusion of three goats, had finally culminated in this upcoming moment.

But even in the midst of this matrimonial ceremony, she dreamed of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

His dark brown skin.

His magnificent mustache.

His coconut oil-soaked hair.

His copious body hair tufts.

His pungent aroma of cilantro, masala and coconut oil.

His warm breath.

How could she stop thinking about him?!Yes, there are arranged marriages. There are love marriages. But what of lust? Why couldn’t there be a third separate category for lust marriages?! Why, oh WHY?! Alas…

The sea of brown wedding attendees began to chatter as they noticed the bride hesitating on the stage. The priest cleared his throat and implored her to move forward to take the final seventh step of the Saptapadi ritual, which would seal her marriage to the groom standing beside her. She raised her foot in the air and began to reluctantly swing it forward. Then….




There, above, stood the Brown Knight, on the upper level of the Sri Meenakshi Siva Vishnu Ranganatha Subramaniya Vrundavana Temple where he had entered, banging on the window that separated him from the wedding ceremony. The guests gasped at the unexpected intruder.




Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram yelled her melodic name from high above.

Amritambuannapurnaayushmati Robinsonandra, the mother of Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka Robinsonandra, sneered at the Brown Knight’s daring audacity. Just recently Amritambuannapurnaayushmati had herself spent an unforgettable night with Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, and now he had the gall to court her own daughter?! Her husband angrily said “What’s that guy? What’s he doing?! I’ll take care of him–” as she stopped him from intervening by saying “He’s too late” with a sinister grin plastered on her face.

Meanwhile, Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka slowly walked towards the direction where the Brown Knight was positioned, much to the dismay of the entire wedding party, as her groom-to-be and her parents surrounded her and screamed threatening reprimands.

What should she do? Should she listen to her parents like a good little Indian girl? Or should she do what her body was craving?

She couldn’t control herself anymore.

“SRI-SHESHADARIPRATIVADIBAYANKARAM!!!!!” shrieked Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka.

The Brown Knight took this cue, immediately turned around from the glass partition, and ran down the stairs towards her. At the bottom of the stairwell, the Brown Knight was intercepted by the groom’s father who furiously howled “YOU PUNK! YOU CRAZY PUNK!!!” Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram acrobatically avoided the jilted man by jumping over the rail, but the groom’s father chased him down and desperately clutched him with a tight bear-hug. After regaining his own balance, the Brown Knight suddenly propelled the two bodies backwards, thereby crushing his assailant’s body against the wall behind them.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram now advanced towards the groom and used his powerful physique to toss his feeble rival backwards like a rag doll, as he grabbed the hand of Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka and started to run towards the exit.

Amritambuannapurnaayushmati Robinsonandra attempted a last-ditch effort to make her daughter reconsider by hissing “It’s too late!”

Defiantly, Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka turned back towards her mother and replied “Not for me!” The mother erupted in anger, raining down violent slaps upon her uncooperative child.

At the same time, the Brown Knight detached a large Ganesh figurine from the temple wall and wildly swung the idol to ward off the menacing crowd, as Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka opened the temple door. After exiting, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram deftly used the protruding trunk of the Ganesh figurine to jam shut the wedding hall door of the Sri Meenakshi Siva Vishnu Ranganatha Subramaniya Vrundavana Temple.


Hand in hand, the two lovers ran with beaming smiles towards the street ahead of them, while her wedding saree began to unravel and flow behind her. The Brown Knight banged on the side of a commuter bus that was driving by and commanded it to slow down. This offered Manishamanjushamandakinimangalamenaka and Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram the opportunity to hang off the side of the bus by gripping the windows, as the escape vehicle disappeared at a snail’s pace into the ubiquitous Indian smog…

India bus


Finally, please enjoy the following artist renditions of the Brown Knight:


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#SexyTime Friday is back again. And I appreciate all of you telling your mothers about my writing; their fan mail has sustained me this week. Tell your mother that I love her. Spread the word about to everyone you know, and even people you don’t know. Roll down your window when you are stopped at an intersection and tell the person in the adjacent vehicle. The website is so easy to remember. Don’t forget to “follow” (on right sidebar on laptops only, and at the very very bottom of this page on laptops & smartphones). And as always, please use coconut oil in moderation.

Dr Pablo Pistola


Has my writing made you consider what brown can do for you?

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #21 [Chapter 88]

Suryakantamdurgeshwarijyotikanishka grew more nervous as she approached him and walked through the crowd of spectators gathered around the central stage in the middle of the posh New Delhi restaurant. Hipsters from far and wide had descended upon this establishment to witness the event. There were countless ironic beards, black turtleneck sweaters, berets, thick horn-rimmed eyeglassess and skinny jeans scattered throughout the audience. The trendy customers sat mesmerized as they watched through their monocles and smoked pipes and long-stem cigarettes. The entire clientele sipped specialty cappuccino coffee beverages she had prepared, after all the attendees had cleansed their palates with shot glasses full of mineral water imported from the natural springs in the Himalayan foothills. The hipsters were so enchanted that they weren’t even whining about how various things had become too mainstream these days.

The jarring silence.

All eyes were on Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram as he sat cross-legged on the central stage, his lips wrapped around his flute that had been hand-crafted by a renowned master musician. Suryakantamdurgeshwarijyotikanishka timed her footsteps to the soothing melody bellowing from his instrument while she walked through the hipsters towards him. She became self-conscious about her own healthy, round rump while she was walking in front of people, but the concern about her own rotund curvy caboose melted away when she reminded herself that all gazes were fixed on the Brown Knight.

As she approached the platform, she stared with a dropped jaw at the king cobra that emerged from the basket in front of him. She already knew that this was the largest cobra ever found in the jungles of India, and that the Brown Knight had risen to the challenge of taming this deadly creature. But seeing the size of it made her mind race. Overwhelming fear consumed her on behalf of the subcontinent’s hero.

Yes, he could effortlessly charm any woman in the world. But charming a snake?

Had Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram put himself in harm’s way?

Would the object of her desire perish before her very own eyes?


The king cobra stood erect in front of the Brown Knight. She stood in awe at its enormous girth. She remained dazzled by its reptilian stare and its tongue flicking in, and out, in, and out, in and out, over and over and over. She felt as though she were witnessing a stalemate between two worthy enemy combatants.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram had tamed many wild animals in the past, always cultivating their fierce loyalty to him as their unquestionable master. His personal eclectic animal collection was the envy of the zookeeper community.

She daydreamed about euphoria of calling him her master. To dutifully follow his every command. To do his bidding.

Just as this snake was doing now for him.

She carefully approached Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram on the stage and slowly extended her arms with the tray towards the basket where the king cobra stood. The Brown Knight has requested that she serve his slithering slave a plate of freshly-prepared pav bhaji. She lifted the plate of food from the tray and began to place it directly in between the Brown Knight and the cobra, as she had been instructed to do so by him beforehand.


But in an instant, everything went wrong.

The king cobra, which stood still in a trance, menacingly lunged towards her with its mouth wide open, prepared for a deadly strike. The gathering of hipsters gasped in unison.

Within a millisecond, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram employed his lightning-quick reflexes to drop his flute, dive forward, and intercept the reptile with his powerful bare hand just a centimeter before its fangs penetrated her bosom as she recoiled in fear. The venom squirted from its fangs harmlessly onto her cleavage, dripping gently into the deep crevice.

The Brown Knight had saved her.

The near-lethal encounter left Suryakantamdurgeshwarijyotikanishka stunned, but in this moment, she realized her own egregious, nearly-grievous error. She had forgotten to bring the buttered bread which traditionally accompanies a serving of pav bhaji, as Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram whispered “Mera king cobra kuch nahin… Mera king cobra kuch nahin…Mera king cobra kuch nahin chahthaheh ahgur tumare pas bun nahi hen, priya.” [“My king cobra don’t…My king cobra don’t…My king cobra don’t want none unless you got buns, hun.”]…

minajSir Mix A Lot

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#SexyTime Friday came quickly, didn’t it? Have you all been experiencing the wonder of coconut oil? Are you all looking at mustaches a bit differently? The Brown Knight has brought sexy back to the Indian male. And it’s here to stay. Please spread the word about to absolutely everybody you know. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation…


51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #20 [Chapter 86]

Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba couldn’t believe how hard the kaka was hitting the fan.

On her very first day, no less.

Her lifelong dream of becoming a sultry flight attendant clad in a suggestive short skirt had been accomplished, yet she almost missed her very first flight, today of all days, due to a snafu at the Air India administrative office. For some reason, they were having difficulty fitting her first name on her official name tag, an absolute requirement according to her superiors. She offered the nickname of “Miley” but the corporate executives demanded her official name due to industry standards. Fortunately for Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba, a regional manager with roaming eyes had taken notice of her stunning appearance, and she was able to curry his favor and obtain a special-ordered name tag that fulfilled the prerequisite.

So she had run as breathlessly as she could. Through security, through the airport concourse & boarded the plane just in time to adjust her hair and hike up her miniskirt. And as she was speaking into the intercom describing the safety features of the aircraft, she saw him.

He was right there in front of her.

In flesh and blood.

How could she have missed the unmistakable aroma of coconut oil, cilantro & masala?

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram sat in front row of the first class cabin, wearing a neatly-pressed designer suit. He paid close attention to her every movement & instruction, gently swaying his head from a side to side indicating his comprehension about an exit in the unlikely event of a water landing.

The whole flight she wanted to serve his every need. And she offered. Over and over.

Then, it all seemed to happen at once.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram had just successfully completed cardiopulmonary resuscitation on an ill elderly passenger in the tail section & was accepting, with humility, the blessings of the appreciative revived patient.

Suddenly, everything violently shook. The turbulence was so severe that Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba daydreamed about how fortuitous it would be if she could throw herself on the Brown Knight’s lap at this precise moment.

The airplane began to take a nosedive while the oxygen masks deployed from the overhead compartments due to a loss of cabin pressure. Yet Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram remained calm & unperturbed, despite the imminent calamity & sheer panic among those on board. The relaxed Brown Knight helped each and every passenger put on the oxygen masks as he made his way towards the nose of the plane where the moaning rookie flight attendant sat waiting.

As he approached the cockpit door, he could hear the sheer terror in the voices of the captain & first officer, both of whom were desperately yelling for the assistance of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

But the door was jammed!

Oh, what else could go wrong?!” wondered Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba as the aircraft cascaded downwards towards the Indian Ocean below.

Yet, the Brown Knight didn’t even flinch. With purposeful, methodical movements he pushed three buttons on his smart watch, which accurately sprayed coconut oil along the door hinges. Due to the pressure of the coconut oil stream, droplets of the aphrodisiac lubricant sprayed backwards up the exposed legs of Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba and formed a pool on the upper portions of her inner thighs, as the Brown Knight took notice of this enticing collection, smiled, and used his Herculean strength to pry the entryway open.

As Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram regained control of the airplane, he commanded the pilot and his assistant to leave the area in order to offer privacy. The Brown Knight then turned to Dwipavatigajagaminijagadamba and whispered “Come…… to my…cock…….pit.”

As she closed the door behind her, she realized that her inaugural flight would also offer her membership to the exclusive Mile High Club.

Another dream of hers achieved…

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#SexyTime Friday is back, but this time I have a special treat for you! American actors were hired to reenact the gripping dialog at the conclusion of this excerpt, and the video link (YouTube) is posted at the bottom! Please please please “follow” my blog to receive updates when I post new excerpts. And please spread the word about to everybody you know, including your own mother. She will enjoy my writing. Trust me. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation.

Dr Pablo Pistolacoconut_oil


My writing has the above effect on women, though my readers tend to have a much more oily experience.

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #19 [Chapter 82]

Chandraswaroopashashikalachandramanimohini had worked far too hard all her life to fall short on this grand stage. Her unparalleled work ethic and dazzling presence had fostered her meteoric rise to Assistant to the Assistant to the Assistant District Attorney. Today would be the watershed moment that would seal her career trajectory.

Succeed, and she would surely secure a job promotion, book deals, rights to Bollywood screenplay adaptations of the proceedings, and untold riches.

Fail, and her professional job security would be in shambles, thereby forcing her to sell her body to the night in order to make ends meet and maintain her lifestyle.

There was no middle ground.

The gripping courtroom drama of this so-called “Trial of the Millennium” had galvanized not just the entire nation, but also the whole globe. Sensational news coverage fueled the public’s insatiable thirst for any morsel of information, no matter how trivial or scandalous. The media circus had spawned an army of amateur detectives posting a constellation of disorganized factoids at online forums for public dissection. There even was an immensely-popular, internationally-downloaded podcast documenting the mystifying emotional torment of host Sarahbhagwantidhanadeepa Koenig-Patel as she pored over each excruciating detail of the case in chronologic order, while never quite arriving at any particular conclusion. Everyone was invested in the outcome from today’s proceedings.


And to add even more pressure, everythingthe outcome of the whole case – would hinge on today’s testimony. The case against the celebrity defendant was largely circumstantial. Could the mega-superstar Ashwaryamadhuriranihemamadhubalamumtaz Dixitraimukerjimalini really have been guilty of murdering several of her love-interests? It seemed as though any man who had fallen prey to her web of seduction ultimately suffered an untimely death which would invariably baffle forensics experts. Whispers echoed through the Bollywood community about how the passing away of each of her lovers, always under suspicious circumstances, invariably remained shrouded in mystery. Rampant innuendos had earned her the infamous “Black Widow” tabloid moniker.

Was her desire to conquer and then subsequently destroy men her vice? The world was about to find out, as she finally was brought before the judge, jury and riveted courtroom gallery to submit to cross-examination. Who could outsmart Ashwaryamadhuriranihemamadhubalamumtaz and finally force this duplicitous criminal to face justice?

Enter Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. A hero rises.

Chandraswaroopashashikalachandramanimohini spearheaded the unconventional recruitment of the Brown Knight to assist because of his intangible je ne sais quoi. He had that “it” factor that mesmerized audiences. And his encyclopedic knowledge of every law of the land served as an indispensable resource to her research during this landmark case. He was the game-changer. He was the ace-in-her-hole. He was her everything.

During the many tense sleepless nights in preparation for the case, there were fleeting moments when she sensed the potential for something beyond merely a professional relationship. But she withstood her obsessions about pleasures of the flesh with him and kept her hands to herself, like a good little Indian girl.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram orchestrated the strategy to use his power as an international sex symbol to lure the defendant out of her shell and let her guard down. He would weaponize his masculinity, and utilize his irresistible aroma of curry and coconut oil, all with the intention of seducing her into thinking that she had been seducing him. He would gain the upper-hand and control her. This would be no different than all the times the Brown Knight had tamed wild, bucking horses in the jungles of India by whispering in the animals’ ears before gently mounting the creatures. He possessed an uncanny talent for diffusing tension and disarming a woman who was on-edge.

Through his subconscious tactics, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram enticed Ashwaryamadhuriranihemamadhubalamumtaz into thinking that he wanted her so badly that he would sabotage the case in order to free her. The evil woman felt as though she had secured an exit strategy yet again.

But now the Brown Knight, during his interrogation of the Black Widow, had sprung his traps and thrown a curveball of his own. He relentlessly badgered the defendant into submission, and then, as he passed by her seat on the witness stand, he pulled the rug out from under her by surrreptiously whispering that he would no longer facilitate her expected freedom.

The Black Widow erupted in front of the stupefied audience, as ominous organ music approaching a crescendo blasted from the courtroom speakers in order to set the tone for the pivot point in this real-life drama.

YOU WERE GOING TO HELP ME! THIS ISN’T HELPING ME!!!” shrieked the overwhelmed Ashwaryamadhuriranihemamadhubalamumtaz.

Everything was unfolding just as the Brown Knight had planned.

In response, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram feigned surprise with a quizzical facial expression while further baiting his target with sarcasm: “I was going to help you?”

The Black Widow retorted “YOU SAID —“

Why would I help you?” replied the Brown Knight.

Because……You want it. You want this…..” said the Black Widow, as she seductively writhed on the witness stand while grabbing her private area.

The shocked audience knew that the case had turned.

DON’T WALK AWAY!” begged the sobbing Ashwaryamadhuriranihemamadhubalamumtaz, as Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram walked away towards the counsel table where the awaiting Chandraswaroopashashikalachandramanimohini was seated in full-heat.

And in that instant, Chandraswaroopashashikalachandramanimohini aimed a knowing glance at Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, who she could no longer resist for even a moment…

AND HERE IS THE VIDEO LINK FOR THE REENACTMENT OF THE GRIPPING SCENE AT THE END OF EXCERPT #19 (right-click on link and open in new tab to enjoy both simultaneously)

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#SexyTime Friday is back by popular demand. This excerpt conveys how well I understand a woman’s desire to expose her vulnerabilities. But we already knew that I am a renowned expert on women. Please spread the word about by any means possible. Not just email, text, Facebook, and Twitter but also by word of mouth. It’s so natural to bring up my satirical Indian romance writing at a bar, a club, and especially at a high-class black-tie cocktail party. Enjoy. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation. Follow Dr Pablo Pistola on Twitter (@drpablopistola). Also check out my medical satire offerings on (link to my pieces on my “About Dr. Pablo Pistola” profile on the top of this page).

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #18 [Chapter 78]

Nityapriyaindumukhiaparnashubadha had grown weary of the lack of viable marriage proposals offered via her online matrimonial profile. Most of the inquisitive suitors had requested more images than her solitary, modest head-shot photograph, with her sari draped over her head and covering almost her entire face. Nityapriyaindumukhiaparnashubadha’s bland biodata on her profile lacked flair; meanwhile, her womb was fertile and ripe for seeds to be planted. Her raging carnal hormones allowed her to muster the courage to respond to an anonymous online advertisement for budoir photography to spruce up her image. She had recently heard of this phenomenon of posing for provocative photographs of one’s body in a tasteful manner. If submitting to the instructions of a photographer could ultimately allow for the fertilization of her rumbling eggs, then forces of nature commanded her to do so.

But she only intended to procure seductive photos to spruce up her internet profile; she never expected to tap into a reservoir of eroticism which she never knew existed within her body and mind.

Nityapriyaindumukhiaparnashubadha grew more anxious as she walked up the dark stairwell in an abandoned warehouse located in the city of Chandigarh’s seedy underbelly. She paused and once again examined the crumpled scrap paper on which she had scribbled the nameless photographer’s address that was listed online. She cross-checked her current location with her mobile phone’s GPS application. Sure enough, her body was right where it needed to be.

warehousewarehouse hall

She proceeded up the stairs and stopped on the 3rd level in front of the door haphazardly marked with an oil-smudged Post-It note with the handwritten words “First-Class Budoir Photography.” Her prudent mind was telling her to run home to her flat, but her body was telling her to knock. So she did. She clenched her trembling fist and pounded on the door thrice.

What seemed like an eternity passed.

She could hear the distant sounds of a siren echoing through this deserted district, and this only served to heighten her sense of vulnerability.

How could she have been so foolish?

Why didn’t she listen to her mother and simply accept an arranged marriage with the first suitor on that website?

Had she naively put herself in harm’s way?

Why had the photographer insisted on meeting at midnight in this isolated area?

Should she run back to the street and hail the nearest autorickshaw back to her neighborhood?!!

Then, suddenly, the door creaked open.

Before her stood the nude Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, holding his prototype high-resolution digital camera.

How could she have been so fortunate?! The mysterious Brown Knight, hero of the subcontinent of India, was offering his services to her.

He motioned for her to enter, and without hesitation she followed him into his dimly-lit, make-shift studio.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram pointed towards the centrally-featured fainting couch, indicating that he wanted her to lay on the furniture. She proceeded to follow his every command as he positioned her limp body in provocative poses.

fainting couch

Before stepping back, the Brown Knight whispered that the reason for his nudity was that it allowed him to achieve complete sensuality with his artistic work in a natural state.

Of course. That made perfect sense.

Then, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram went to work.




He commanded her without uttering a word, continuously repositioning her body.

She felt so free.

Nityapriyaindumukhiaparnashubadha never imagined doing such a thing, yet feeling so comfortable with it.




The rapid camera clicks seemed to morph into one continuous sound, thereby augmenting her state of hypnosis.

Then, suddenly, the flashes and clicking stopped.


Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram stood before her. He clearly wanted to her to step even further outside of her personal boundaries. He beckoned her to lie supine on the sofa. As she lay frozen on the fainting couch, he meticulously began to unfold an opening in the sari over her abdomen. He dissected through layers of clothing with surgical precision. Layer after layer after layer after yet another layer. Finally, he arrived at her perspiring tender skin. He used his mighty fingers to pry apart the opening to the expose her navel through a tunnel in her garment measuring 3mm by 3mm. She felt virtually naked.

Yet she still felt so comfortable.

The Brown Knight briskly walked off the set into the darkness of the warehouse. Moments later, he suddenly emerged back into sight as he marched back towards her carrying a steel vessel in his hand.

As she lay in front of him completely covered from head-to-toe with the exception of the penetration through her garments showing off her navel, he sensually tilted the vessel over her, and dribbled warm coconut oil, one drop at a time, onto her exposed navel.




69 drops in total.

The warmth from the lubricant relaxed every muscle fiber in her body. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram then took his powerful dominant pointer finger, firmly penetrated her belly button with it, and then spread the coconut oil outward over her skin in concentric circles.

The Brown Knight then whispered directly into her ear “Now, Nityapriyaindumukhiaparnashubadha , give yourself to my camera…and to me.”


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#SexyTime Friday is back! Everyone by now recognizes my expertise about women. But did you know that I have a huge Latina following? This is my 3rd excerpt (#6, #10 & now #17) composed as a tribute to the Latina demographic that adores me so dearly. As usual, please spread the word (via email, text, Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, Pinterest, carrier pigeon, smoke signals, etc) about And as usual, please, PLEASE use coconut oil in moderation. I’m bringing #SEXY back to Indian men, one excerpt at a time.

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #17 [Chapter 72]

Dr Pablo Pistolacoconut_oil

She had stood in front of the battalion of cameramen innumerable times in the past, but never before had Margarita Macarena Valencia Alejandra Carolina Amante-Del-Carne noticed the suffocating warmth generated by the floodlight beams on her television studio kitchen set. What felt like the heat of a thousand suns caused her to appear ostensibly nervous despite her already well-established culinary celebrity.

tv studio lights

But she knew better.

She was acutely aware that the reason she was so hot and bothered was the man standing right next to her. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram had blessed her popular Latino cooking program with a guest appearance, and the early returns on her live show indicated a record-breaking international viewership. The grandstands behind the cameras were overflowing with a captivated studio audience, mostly comprised of women with raging hormones gushing through their bloodstreams & commanding them to engage in acts of procreation. Margarita Macarena Valencia Alejandra Carolina Amante-Del-Carne could virtually taste the exuded pheromones in the air.

But all she desired was a whiff of *his* pheromones to experience the high from the early stages of his primal mating process. Questions raced through her mind.
Would he notice if I moved even closer to him for a sniff?
Would the spectators catch onto my subtle maneuver?
Could I control myself?!
She found herself caring less and less about what the world would think. She felt compelled to listen to her own body and carnal instincts. As she inched towards him, his sublime scent of curry, coconut oil & freshly-diced cilantro almost made her knees below buckle to make her assume a submissive position. A brief moment of panic overwhelmed her as she feared that the moisture rapidly accumulating under her snow-white dress would be evident to millions of eyes.

In this instant, her nose brushed against his glorious bushy mustache as Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram turned towards her.
Oh, the embarrassment!
A faux pas in front of her devoted followers!
But the Brown Knight, sensing her bashfulness, casually wiped away the dab of coconut oil that had transferred from his glistening whiskers to the tip of her nose.
How could his presence be so damn calming?
His playful charm and hypnotic smile inspired the awe evoked by witnessing a solar eclipse. As the storm swirled around her, he was her lighthouse. His bedrock offered her firm ground upon which to stand with complete confidence.

He seamlessly turned back to the banana-leaf-covered-countertop which had a meticulous arrangement of boiling rice & rasam, as well as a veritable cornucopia of onions, garlic, ginger, coconuts, spices & oils.

indian spices

As he poured rice grains over the open fire, she heard the Brown Knight mumbling under his warm breath, inaudible to the microphones. She nearly wondered aloud if he was performing a pooja prayer in front of the world.
She stood spellbound as she became mesmerized by the various glass vessels filled with bubbling coconut oil, each extracted from a unique coconut species and precisely maintained at distinct temperatures.

“Is this what a coconut oil meth lab would look like?” wondered the Latina princess.
Her protective goggles began to fog up as she started to breathe more heavily and moan with each exact ingredient manipulation by this chef-extraordinaire. The mystifying culinary savant maintained his methodical command of the scene.
But the panic that had receded moments ago now boomeranged back as a tidal wave of terror. The Brown Knight kept blending more and more, and yet even more, spices together in his potent concoction! This level of flavor appeared to be too much for any human to safely process!
She stunned the audience by yelling “Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, NO!!!!! This blend of garam masala and taco seasoning has never before been successfully achieved! It’s too powerful! The human taste buds cannot—–“

Suddenly, words escaped Margarita Macarena Valencia Alejandra Carolina Amante-Del-Carne, as the Brown Knight gently placed his mighty pointer finger on her lips while whispering “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”
As she stood in silence, she instinctively extended out her tongue to flick against his throbbing appendage. She could taste all the intense flavors at once, as she melted away due to the explosion in her mouth…

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#SexyTime Friday is back! Time for a new excerpt release! There are 3 things that I’m consdired to be an expert on: 1) Winning basketball 2) Saving lives 3) Women. This is my gift to the world. Please spread the word to everyone you know, comment on the posts, follow me on twitter (@drpablopistola), and come back on Fridays for new excerpts. One technical note: I know that many of you have not been able to “follow” my blog when you are viewing the posts on your smartphone. I am trying to troubleshoot the matter, but in the meantime, on a desktop computer, there is a “Follow” button where you can sign up to be notified when new hot steamy funny sexy hilarious oily material gets posted here (image posted). Stay tuned. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation. If your sexiness lasts more than 6 hours, call your significant other because you may be experiencing a sexiness overdose.

Dr Pablo Pistolacoconut_oilIMG_6149

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #16 [Chapter 69]

Anushreepoojarachanaprasannakumaran had studied every medical textbook, memorized virtually all groundbreaking medical research papers, and watched each archive episode of all medical television dramas ever produced. But nothing could prepare her for this.
The observation gallery from above the operating room was overflowing with renowned physicians from around the globe. A seemingly infinite number of cameras were directed below so that this healthcare landmark could be broadcast live to a starving international viewership. In this one moment, Anushreepoojarachanaprasannakumaran felt simultaneously grateful to be participating in such a historic medical milestone, yet she also felt overwhelmed by the gravity of the proceedings. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram lay supine on the operating table in front of her. The stern chief surgeon placed the Brown Knight’s pointer finger in a pulse-oximetry probe to monitor his oxygen levels. EEG brainwave wires were attached to his temples, EKG cardiac leads were stuck to his chest, and temperature probes adhered to every part of his immaculate, glistening frame that had been coated earlier with coconut oil. The Brown Knight had submitted his own body for medical testing at the hands of the Indian Intelligence Bureau in order to define the bounds of torture tolerance from enemy combatants seeking to extract state secrets from captured spies, with the intention of detecting vulnerabilities in IIB training protocols. His cool, stoic demeanor was merely a reflection of his legendary physiology and a product of his superhuman exercise regimen. A crowd of doctors and medical students gathered around the nude Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram and prepared for the event by chanting a prayer for his safety.

As the clock struck noon, the smothering silence was only broken by the methodical beeping from the telemetry monitor that declared his robotic pulse of 45 to the entire audience.


One by one, students were summoned to submit India’s hero to noxious stimuli and record his body’s response for future generations.

The first student hesitated but was prompted by the chief surgeon to deliver over 600 Joules of current to the Brown Knight’s chest via defibrillator paddles.


Yet no change.

Pulse of 45.

Not even a response from Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

The next two trembling students were called to step forward with trepidation. The students, visibly shaken by the chief surgeon’s glare goading them to proceed, simultaneously pinched & ferociously twisted both of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s mocha-colored nipples with contralateral directionality [the left nipple twisted counter-clockwise while the right nipple twisted clockwise] while forcefully tugging on the two ends of his magnificent, oily signature mustache.

Still no difference, not even for a millisecond.

Pulse of 45.

A defiant smile on the Brown Knight’s face further antagonized the skeptical chief surgeon, the lone naysayer in the international medical community who had heretically claimed that Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram was just an ordinary person, bound by laws and limitations of human physiology.

The enraged chief surgeon screamed for the fourth student to step forward. The student approached the Brown Knight, and raised the 500 cc beaker slowly into the air, but then paused, only to break down crying under the pressure of potentially bringing pain to his idol. The unhinged chief surgeon charged towards the insubordinate trainee, violently grabbed the beaker, and poured scalding hot coconut oil all over the body of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

Yet still, unbelievably, against all odds, there was not even a modicum of a response evoked by this action.

The gallery erupted in thunderous applause as the telemetry monitor bellowed a methodical 45 heartbeats per minute. A perfect, beautiful sinus rhythm. No change in any of his vital signs. Normal blood pressure. 117% oxygen saturation. A veritable medical marvel never before seen within the annals of medicine.
But the jubilant audience suddenly became overcome by stunned silence. The accelerating telemetry beeping felt like it was the only sound in the world. The gasping doctors were astounded as the Brown Knight’s pulse rose to the rate of 69 beats per minute.

What could have prompted this unexpected response?

How had the celebrated specimen become stimulated?

It was at this moment that the thunderstruck international spectators realized that Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram was devilishly smiling and staring right at Anushreepoojarachanaprasannakumaran. His arousal was evident for all to see.
Oh, the glory of the spectacle!
The flustered anesthesiologist exclaimed “DOCTOR! THE TEMPERATURE READINGS FROM THE PUBIC AREA ARE…ARE…ARE….I HAVE NEVER BEFORE SEEN READINGS LIKE THESE!” amid the scrum of doctors scrambling in a frenzy amongst the medical equipment within the chamber. The defeated chief surgeon, confused by the wonder of this true extraterrestrial outlier, wiped away waves of tears cresting over his lower eyelids while asking “What….what is your secret, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram?”

Without breaking his piercing stare at Anushreepoojarachanaprasannakumaran, the Brown Knight whispered “Coconut oil”…