No, you're not seeing things. Out of our desperate craving for dollars commitment to our customers, we're running an extra deal today. Who loves money you, baby?

Look, the Woot writers are human, okay? Sometimes we run out of ideas. That's why, from time to time, we'll farm out the product writeup to an MFA student. Hey, if it worked for James Frey, it can work for us, right? So, today's writeup for this Panasonic Rechargeable Sonic Toothbrush is written by Thea Shea-Lea, an MFA candidate at Harvard Agricultural College in Cambridge, Nebraska:

The tale of how Chrysantha Jiffey came to inhabit the role of proprietress of the Scarlet Snapdragon Hostelry was scarcely a thing that could be told, so deeply were its roots gnarled and squished into the earthy Georgia loam, like the fist of a tree-like baby clutching fiercely its pacifier of dirt. Such soil yields not its enigmata gently.

But when the tart-tongued ladies of Junction Corners puckered their painted lips and spun the legend like a diaphanous web extruding from a brown recluse's anus, they located the first stop of destiny's tramway at the moment Virgil Jiffey - he who was called Pop - spied the Panasonic Rechargeable Sonic Toothbrush poised in the window of Beauregard's Mercantile at the corner of Earle and Water Streets one luminous downtown Sunday.

To hear him tell it that night at dinner with great roaring chuckles of laughter, Pop Jiffey had been struck by a revelation Damascene in its awesomeness. "Button," he bellowed (for such he called Chrysantha when deep in his drunken cups of alcohol), "I know things been awful poorly for us since Mama run off with that fancy-dude rhinoceros trainer. But it's all looking up now, I'll warrant. This toothbrush does 28,500 brushstrokes per second! I say 60 minutes of usage on a 12-hour charge, I say!

"Why, if it don't remove plaque the way Sherman's Army scoured the very soul of Dixie from our sacred soil, I'll crawl into a skunk's burrow 'neath a shapely magnolia and there die the unmourned death of a cur!" With a humongous clatter of oaths, Pop Jiffey vowed right there at table to acquire that Panasonic Rechargeable Sonic Toothbrush the very moment Beauregard's Mercantile opened for custom the next morn.

But come cock-crow, Pop Jiffey dozed in a bourbon slumber. By the time he'd roused his corpulent corpus from his feather-bed and maundered to Beauregard's, the Panasonic Rechargeable Sonic Toothbrush had been sold, Beauregard said, to a piano player on the railway. So he bought his daughter a hotel instead, and everybody was super folksy and whimsical in ways too varied and numerous to recount, especially while a deadline was approaching.

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