Shock-in-Scent for Woman Police 2018

If my worst nightmares had a color, it would be purple.
“Purple is what comes out when you subtract from blue and red what defines them. It’s already unsatisfying in terms of its origin,” my physics teacher once whispered, perhaps the wisest words of his career and possibly also an approach to explaining the meaning transfer of this color into a sexual context.
Before the purple lovers call the police, Salem is already provocatively purring “I’ve got the police” to himself...
I kick him in the extended back and send him towards Mars, where maybe someone would like to listen to him.
I can explain everything!
Hahahaha. It hurts, doesn’t it?
It hurts me too. The shocking thing when someone calls the police isn’t even the purple bottle, which achieves an effect similar to treating yourself to the first biker jacket of your life at forty, running away with the secretary or assistant, and going on a fasting retreat in a monastery, only to order the Happy Meal at McDonald's in Rome afterward. It’s not the fact that the thing pricks your hand when you open it, preparing you for the contents, warningly.
It’s the contents!
It rants like Brigitte when her son left his favorite Tupperware at his ex-girlfriend's, like the ads inviting us to look forever young by bathing in snake skin, sprinkling grated crocodile teeth over our muesli, which we try to sip with freshly injected lips.
Just as naturally as the hairline whispers after fifteen minutes of hydrogen peroxide exposure, the purple Salem bro shouts at a volume that rivals the speakers at a techno festival, telling me his tales until my next heart attack and dangling noodles on me.
And what can I say?
I’m a bit smitten, not by the volume, but by the overall package, the slightly smoky honey note, the flower overload of the ‘chemistry set’ type.
Next time my Ukrainian friend points out that a diet would do me good because otherwise no one would marry me before I turn 30, I’ll spray this bro in her face and then wait two days for her to awaken from the coma of being overwhelmed.
For anyone who doesn’t want to be reported for bodily harm, it is NOT recommended for use in enclosed spaces.
Ka-bauz, ka-bääähmmm!
Sometimes it just has to be about ranting.
In that sense, I leave a recommendation for everyone who finds the direction that Black Opium Eau de Parfum and Girl of Now take more appealing than “GET OUT OF HERE!”
Like good borscht, the police in the purple robe gets better over time... as long as under NO circumstances more than one spray is used.
We can also be satisfied with ourselves, welcoming the signs of the times with open arms and still working on ourselves.
So if you want to call the police now, go ahead and remember that I am armed.
Afterward, feel free to tell me what you think purple is THE signal color for.