Wow!
These taste way better than abortions!

By now, everyone has seen the story about Plan B (the morning after pill) being available in vending machines, right?

Some will abuse the machines hoping to gain popularity. You’re not fooling anyone, virgin.
I’d love to see a commercial, but how would it go you ask??? Well, lucky for you, my mind is a wasteland for this sort of shit.
I have visions of these machines being setup in school cafeterias, in workplace lunchrooms and in bar entrances where they used to have the cigarette machines.

Can you see some broad pulling on one of those impossible levers with all her might, sliding to the floor in her hooker heels?

"No, you get it for me! You're the only one who came that night, you prick!"
I also see ladies approaching the machine shifty-eyed, watching over their shoulder nervously as they deposit their money. (It’s only takes coins by the way $20-$60 in change.)
And maybe she had to break into her childhood piggy bank to gather enough cash. I could also see her digging in the couch cushions, or frantically looking in her car ashtray, lifting floor mats and hanging upside-down, cramming her hand under the seats to find enough change.

You knew it was bound to happen. I can clearly see once all that money is deposited and the number code is punched in – Plan B gets stuck, like a non-compliant bag of Cheetos hung up on the metal spring. It just dangles there, taunting her. In my head a woman stands there kicking the shit out of the machine and calls it every name in the book as if she were talking to the guy who knocked her up.

Could they possibly come in an old fashioned gumball machine, just to make it easier on that fertile slut? (I think there is a blowing joke in there somewhere.)
The tagline at the end of the commercial is where I’m having trouble. How would it go?
When Plan A doesn't work and… you can't control your internal whore.
When Plan A doesn't work and… the condom breaks.

When Plan A doesn't work and… you can’t find a rusty wire hanger anywhere.
When Plan A doesn't work and… and the dude says, “I’ve smoked so much weed I’m probably sterile,” and what a shock, he isn't.
When Plan A doesn't work and… you live in a ground-level apartment with no stairs to throw yourself down.
When Plan A doesn't work and… he promised to pull out.
When Plan A doesn't work and _______________.