Of course Manitoba
is essentially the French Dakota. And everyone knows that the Dakotas are home to some of the most sexually depraved humans this side of Bixby. Armed with that as background information, the Manitoba Monkey Wrench is the utensil that is found in every man’s tackle box, toolbox and utility belt. It is the very tool that can keep you alive on those subarctic nights in the local pub.
Now might be a good time for an illustrative story. Once there was a logger that frequented the long and lonesome roads between Winnipeg
and Dauphin. While he has no doubt dipped his quill into the ink of every truck stop, rest stop and out-house prostitute on those roads, he does have taste. He knows that if a bawdy-house floozy has a large knot on the side of her head from contact with a swiftly exerted monkey wrench to the cranium of a Canuck
slut, she is a price catch. This mandible indention is a bade of honor among the native hootch peddlers. He would not only pay her for her wares but also throw in a hearty salmon biscuit sammich with round bacon. They might also ice-skate on the frozen lakes (weather permitting) and rarely, but occasionally he might give her a handshake and a heart-felt “good job”.
Back to the definition… The Manitoba Monkey Wrench is to the Maple Leaf Madam
as a hickey from Kenickie is to Rizzo. It’s not only something to cherish but to be worn with pride.
The Kicker: As with everything, sometimes the giver of the Manitoba Monkey Wrench can go overboard and hit the harlot too hard, those rendering her oral sexual skills as a thing of the past. Once this happens, the harlot becomes a short-order cook and invariably becomes a victim of Meth use.
Thirdly: If you’re lucky enough to encounter a lady of the night that is not only skilled in the arts of crushing her own pride but also knows how what the difference between a neutral-zone trap and a one-man fore check then by all means brand the woman as a madam worthy of Manitoba’s highest honor.
When Pierre saw Delorise turn around with a mouth full of Round Bacon, he could see the mark of the Manitoba Monkey Wrench and knew that this woman was worth more than an expired Trojan, she was worth a sporty stint of ice skating and some wool socks. For he had heard about the Manitoban mark of beauty but had never gazed upon its call with his natural eyes.