In our sixth elimination round of The B Factor we asked you to answer the following question: Who has the prettiest hands? 233 votes have been counted, and here are the results.
(The full, unredacted results of the elimination rounds will be published before the final episode of The B Factor.)
SAFE FOR NOW (in alphabetical order):
Chris Evans
Shawn Mendes
Timothee Chalamet
Tom Holland
Zac Efron
THE BOTTOM TWO (in alphabetical order):
Jake Gyllenhaal
Taylor Lautner
AND THE LOSER IS:
Taylor Lautner with 3% of the vote.
That's a surprise - Taylor has never been in the Bottom Two so far! I guess that means - gasp! - that nobody is safe... Oh my god, this is getting interesting!
Anyway, Taylor Lautner is eliminated from The B Factor – and here’s his punishment.
***
Hands-on
Featured in this story: Taylor Lautner and Danny (click for pictures)
Taylor Lautner looked at his hands. “I don’t know what you mean”, he said slowly. “They look perfectly normal to me.”
“Normal”, Danny nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, normal, sure. But we’re not looking for ‘normal’.”
The 21 year old leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his reddish-blond hair. An aspiring actor always in need of money, Danny had started the job at the casting agency just a few days ago. At first it had been funny being on the other end of the table. But it was turning depressing very quickly.
All those has-beens trying to argue their way into a job. No dignity, no self-respect.
Danny just couldn’t understand why they went through this instead of retiring in dignity.
“Then what are you looking for?!” Taylor asked, sounding seriously annoyed.
Mr. Lautner’s best times were well in the past. There had been a time when he had been the hottest guy in Hollywood, box office gold, awards favorite, a bonafide star. Now he was just a chubby guy with neglible amount of talent auditioning for a role in a shoe commercial. It wasn’t even a speaking part. It was the part of father tying his shoes, and it was a close-up of his hands and his shoes.
Danny raised his eyebrows. “I think we’re done here”, he said.
“Hey”, the Hollywood has-been said, his face darkening. “I asked you a question.”
Danny got up from his chair. “I said I think we’re done here”, he repeated sternly. “That’s it. See you---”
Suddenly, Taylor’s hand shot forward, finding Danny’s crotch.
Danny’s gasp of surprise quickly turned into a groan of pain as Taylor started squeezing his nuts.
More by reflex than by conscious decision, Danny brought his hand up between Taylor’s thighs, grabbing Taylor’s nuts in a vise-like grip.
Now it was Taylor’s turn to gasp and groan.
Very soon, both men’s voices grew louder and louder as they both tried to squeeze the life out of their counterpart’s gonads.
“God”, Taylor grunted as he felt the pain rush through his body.
“He has nothing to do with this”, Danny growled, squeezing Taylor’s nuts as hard as he can while the former superstar was pressing his fingers into his testicles. “This is all man’s doing!”
Taylor howled in agony, increasing the pressure on Danny’s nuts in turn.
Danny’s voice cracked as he moaned in pain, squishing and squashing Taylor’s balls while he was doing the same to Danny’s balls.
Taylor’s voice changed, too, going up a notch as a direct effect of Danny twisting his nuts sharply.
“Let go!” Taylor whimpered.
“You let go!” Danny croaked.
Neither of them let go. Instead, they both doubled down on their efforts to pit each others’ cherries, pressing their thumbs deep into each others’ meaty gonads.
Their voices rose in a comical duet of forced sopranos, an enchanting interplay of crescendo and diminuendo, high-pitched and crystal clear, entwining in a strangely captivating chant of agony.
They were howling and shrieking, yodeling and squealing as they squished and squashed each other’s nuts.
After what seemed like an eternity, they sank to their knees, simultaneously, accompanied by the atonal serenade of dying semen, the sick song of pain that came out of their mouths.
“Just let go!” Taylor cantillated in a flawless falsetto.
“Never!” Danny replied in the same bell-like voice.
They doubled over, one on top of the other, their hands buried in each others’ crotches, squeezing the life out of each other’s balls while whimpering in agony, neither of them willing to let go.
Their voices faded, growing coarser and hoarser, until they died down, very much like the sperm inside their testicles.
There was a moment of silence.
“Thank god that’s over”, the casting director said, rolling his eyes. “Next please.”
***
Six out, six to go. The B Factor continues!
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