DustBuster

I own a cordless handheld vacuum cleaner called the DustBuster Plus. It was invented by my two friends Duncan Black and Alonzo Decker. The machine was intended to be used for making milk bottle caps and candy dipping, but, when people found out that it was also pretty good at sucking up stuff, they just changed the marketing to reflect that.

As you would expect, my DustBuster picks up the dust in my house. I store it in a holster on the side of my sofa. Actually I have two of these handy devices; I keep the other one right behind the cat flap on the closet door in the main hall. So, don’t worry: if you end up spilling your root beer or decide to gush blood all over the carpet, I’ll simply grab one of the DustBusters and clean up the mess. 

I bought my DustBuster at Target, the big-box department store, for thirty-nine dollars and sixty cents. It has a striking appearance: the engine is encased in a plastic shell, and it has a white power switch. It hums when it’s working. And it sucks up many other particles besides dust. 

Here is a quote from Consumer Report Magazine: “The DustBuster Plus is the best battery-powered tool next to…” and then they mention a type of baton that is intended to be used by females for sensual stimulation — I don’t want to mention that product’s name, as they’re apparently a competitor.

Which reminds me: Before I made my initial purchase, I was watching the saleswoman demonstrate the effectiveness of the DustBuster Plus 450, and she was wearing an ankle-length dress (which was attractive, I might add), and, as soon as she flipped on the power switch, the material of her dress got sucked into the vacuum and clogged its mouth! This revealed about ten full centimeters of her left shin. It was quite a sight.

If you’ve seen the 1984 film Ghostbusters, then you know that those guys carried huge backpacks with tube-like extensions that blasted out streams of semi-tame lightning, which they used to entrap paranormal entities; and then they stored their catch in a vault of some sort. All I can say is that owning a DustBuster sure beats sweeping my floor with a broom.