Sylvester, who goes by the name Slyvester, has a rubber girlfriend. It’s a blowup doll. Everyone thinks it’s odd including Slyvester. Sylvester doesn’t care. He paid $19.99 for her, plus shipping and handling. She’d been handled a lot from the looks of her.

“Hey, after the initial cost there’s no more money out. Air’s free, you know?”

“Slyvester, it’s a rubber doll. People are laughing at you”, his mom told him.

“Ma, people laugh at me anyway.”

“Slyvester, they laugh at me too”, his dad added.

“Why? Mom’s not made out of rubber.”

Slyvester and his “girl”, "Maggie", went everywhere together.

“Actually, they make a nice couple”, his sister, Flo, said.

“Flo, it’s a rubber doll!!”, dad yelled.

“Well, yea, but he can’t get her pregnant.”

Some of the better restaurants wouldn’t seat Slyvester and “Maggie”.

“Sir, that’s a rubber doll. You’ll have to leave her outside”, said the maitre’d.

“What?! What kind of a guy do you take me for. I’m a gentleman.”

The maitre’d didn’t answer that one. He also didn’t seat Slyvester. He got the busboys to toss Slyvester out.

Once, at a movie, the plug came out and “Maggie” cut a big one. Everyone looked at her but the smell wasn’t bad. Slyvester said that at least she was a clean farter. Loud but clean.

The Pastor of his church told him, “No, she can’t be brought in here. I don’t care if she is a better Christian than most of these people. No, Slyvester, no.”