Post-Gazette publisher John Block and his wife spent their Valentine’s Day evening romantically feasting on the blood of a slain common man, the couple fondly reflected upon this morning.
“Gosh, we haven’t indulged in that much blood of a working-class slob in forever,” said Block, who reportedly chose a chilled ’84 account manager for the intimate gathering. “Still think we’re feeling the effects of that unrefined blood this morning, in fact. Even so, my wife, the blood diamond of my life, should know that I would spare no expense, nor show any mercy upon the inferior classes to make her happy.”
Mrs. Block wanted to make clear there was more to the special evening than just toasting over the “rotting corpse of an unambitious office lackey.”
“John is so humble,” she said, squeezing into a glass any life force that remained inside the dead layman. “He acts like all we did was casually sip the blood of a non-elite and then go to bed, when he had actually lined up a whole bunch of our favorite movies, like a reenactment of the Homestead Strike of 1892. Goodness, every time we watch the Pinkertons firing into that crowd of helpless steelworkers, my heart swoons for him all over again.
In fact, Mrs. Block stated, the films ultimately led to the “most eventful” part of the night.
“I know John is ready to go when he starts shouting, ‘Should’ve killed their whole families, too!'” she said. “Needless to say, things got a little exciting after that. Especially when we started the roleplay where I had to get on my hands and knees and beg for reasonable wages and health insurance. John can be so dirty when he wants to.”
Block reported that he and his wife might do something more relaxing today “like a zoo,” which he clarified is their pet name for any neighborhood with a median home value under $1 million.
