Meet Mo

My brother is a slut. A frikin slut. He gets all the ladies. Anytime, anywhere. From the hottest of hot to the skankest of skank. He doesn't care. And he doesn't even have to try anymore. He's got frosted tips, a fatty-6'2" frame and more charm than Ryan Phillippe in Cruel Intentions. Women fall at his feet, fall for his oft-rehearsed game hook, line and sinker, and, inevitably, fall madly in love with him. His lopsided grin in an attempt to display an almost unnoticeable dimple works every time. Add that to his favourite ploy, where he introduces her as his fiance, and he simply can't lose. They giggle. They blush. He calls the next day. "Hi cutie." First date: He takes her tanning - it only lasts eight minutes. Half an hour, tops, for the whole shebang. Second date: His house for a movie. His "closing" date? Scaramouche Pasta Bar. He treats her like gold until he gets sick of her. A few weeks later, he's driving her home so drunk he can't see, calls her a "cuntie" and spits in her face. "You can't treat me like that," she'll say almost meaning it. But they always come back for more. He juggles the same girls for months on end. I'm telling ya, some girls just can't get enough of the Mock. He's a lovable little asshole.