They've got something a bit more valuable

You consider their offer for a moment, but decide there are probably more elegant ways to monetize your new situation. Instead, you ask for something a little more useful to a burgeoning ****.

"I don't want your money," you explain. "I want pictures and addresses for all the hottest women you know. Moms, sisters, cousins, babysitters, any other popular peeping targets around town. I'll give you my phone number, and you all become my little **** scouts. Maybe you'll get to watch me use them someday, too. Sound like a deal?"

The spokesteen's eyes widen briefly at this offer, but the bulge in his pants is unmistakable. He turns back to the huddle, where more whispering happens. Eventually, they seem to reach a decision.

He turns to you again, spits in his palm, and offers you his hand.

"Deal."

You refuse the spitshake, because ew, but you rattle off your phone number. In minutes, your phone is buzzing away in your pocket with hot tips for local **** targets. They haven't wasted any time upholding their end of the bargain, so now it's your turn.