would you rather

The Dove and I played a game over Skype yesterday.
You should try it. Kills an entire afternoon.

Dove:
Would you rather sit in a white room, no aircon, no music.
With [the names of 2 blonde fuckwits we know] for 3 whole days.
Limited to conversation about the size of the rocks they want on their fingers.
Their boyfriends' golf scores.
And how annoying it is when you're ‘stuck in the elevator on the 58th floor of Investec with your boss.'

Or would you rather…. run through the Kalahari, mid summer, 45km's, in a wet suit, a balaclava, ear muffs, skiing gloves, thermals, and weights attached to your feet, chewing snuff tobacco, no water, with pieces of meat attached to your legs.
And a pack of wild dogs behind you, listening to Leanne Rimes full blast.

And when you get to the end - if you're not mauled to shit - you have to have a photoshoot on a sand dune, which will be printed on every billboard in the country, and, needless to say, you're looking a little ruffled.

Peas:
Depends. Is cellulite the new black? I'd still prefer option two. Stuck in a room with those two birds would kill me. I'd surely die.

Dove:
…also, while you're running, someone's holding a television screen in front of you with a repetitive image of [Blonde 1] and [Blonde 2] painting their nails and discussing the cracks on the pavement at George's on 4th.

Peas:
OK. Would you rather….be nailed to a chair while you have to repeatedly photocopy 1200 copies of a goat’s doetpipe over and over again while listening to Bonny’s Best Buys on amplified stereo.
While a syphilis-infested yak humps at your leg and ejaculates on your handbag.
.....Oh. Wait.

....And then when you have finished photostatting a thousand pictures of a goat's doetpipe, you have to run through the streets of Pamploma while sex starved bulls try to impregnate you.
But you can't run because someone has emptied 4 litres of super glue onto the road.
So you have 5 bulls all shagging you at once while you are stuck in a Running Man stance.
And then you grow a penis on your face.

Dove:
… but wait, aren’t the bulls stuck too?

Peas:
Would you rather shnarff 7 000 grams of powdered buck droppings,
Or have 6 kgs of crude oil poured down your ear?

Dove:
Either way I'm dead as disco, so I reckon the crude oil.

Peas:
Would you rather dance like a caucasian or fuck like a wild pig?

Dove:
Well, how does a wild pig fuck?

Peas:
Like a wild pig.

Dove:
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Peas:
I'm thinking it's about as bad as a white person's rhythm.

Dove:
Would you rather knit cashmere sweaters for the rest of your life
or knit cashmere undies for the rest of your life?

Peas:
I'd rather knit the undies. 'Cos it's a niche market.
People knit sweaters all the time.
Undies - Not so much.

Dove:
Would you rather enter a spelling bee competition in the north of America, or enter a karaoke competition in the deep south of America?
The spelling bee is three days long.
The karaoke is in a packed and uncomfortable caravan.
Hosted by rednecks with names like Cody and Beulah.
The spelling bee is hosted by the proud mother of a retard.

Peas:
Would you rather suck on the left testicle of a very hairy man

Dove:
Wait! Is he Spanish?

Peas:
....Or would you rather suck on the right testicle of a man who just dipped his scrotum in suncream. No he's not Spanish.
He's half ape-half human.
And his testicles are huge. Like mini hot air balloons.

Dove:
Is the suncream ok to eat?
Is there a tap nearby?
And is there a great difference between a left and right testicle?

Peas:
Let's say his right testicle is so large, you need to dislocate your jaw in order to suck on it. You'll need maxillo-facial surgery thereafter.

Dove:
OK they both suck. I'd rather die.
....Would you rather witness necrophilia in Norway?
....Or paedophilia in Poland?

Peas:
...Or fucking in Finland?