an apparent heart attack and died yesterday— during kinky three-way sex with two naked women inside his $8 million Fifth Avenue penthouse, the possible result of a popular erection-inducing medication, law enforcement sources said. Exclusive
Daily Press
photos and video show that the married Hardstein, a father of three and grandfather of two, died after engaging in extra-marital hijinks with his young playmates just minutes after he refused to comment to a crowd of media outside his home—uttering his last public words: “Sorry, I have a pressing appointment.”
© Copyright, N.Y. DAILY PRESS.
I was still new to newspaper work and had no clue what the word “hijinks” meant. Inside, page after page of huge photographs of the senator and his teen partners, with more black tape over certain body parts to reduce the exposure from X-rated to PG-17. There was also black tape over the ladies’ eyes, hiding their identity but not much else.
Wow. And my name was on it. How did that happen? I couldn’t put it down.
“PRESSING APPOINTMENT? The Senator Presses the Flesh in His Last Campaign, as one of his admirers sucks on an odd cigarette.” The video frame-grabs were numbered in series, like a comic strip, of the action and death and the flight of the ladies, then the arrival of the cops. There was a website listed—a pay-per-view site to view the copyrighted video for $9.99. Further in, two pages were dedicated to exclusive interviews with the two girls.
HARD-ON HARLOTS
“He was, like, really old but he was always cool before. This time, he just friggin’ fell over. Maybe he took too much Viagra,” said one escort—who asked to be called “Caprice.” Her partner, “Swag,” said they preferred to be identified as “sex industry workers.” They both agreed that if they ever voted they would cast their ballots for Hardstein. Just before the fun turned fatal, they said, the liberal Hardstein asked them to sing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” Yesterday was not the senator’s birthday. “Dickie loved that song,” said one of the sex industry workers. “He was totally bonus. I’m, like, totally sad.”
The girls revealed their prices and menu for sex, all detailed in a chart on page seven, next to a spread of real estate photos of the penthouse—presumably for sale soon—and speculation on who might buy it and whether Hardstein’s widow might get more or less money because of the infamy of his ignominious end there. There was even a shot at Ginny Mac, under a small photo of her pressing her chest against Hardstein. They had air-brushed her cleavage to make it look more revealing and her expression more slutty.
MAIL BOOB JOB FAILS
An unnamed
New York Mail
reporter, left, unethically presses her chest against the doomed senator in a failed bid for an interview. But her shame went largely unnoticed in New York—because no one is reading the
Mail
today. Everyone is getting the whole story, exclusively—only in the
Daily Press
! Don’t forget to view the shocking video online. Adults only!
Oh, man. I picked up the warring tabloid from the porch. Ginny had a story on the front page with another big headline:
HARD-ON DEAD
Ginny’s piece was very similar—but totally without the girls or the sex or the Viagra. They never saw the pastel ladies, never launched a drone. They were caught flat-footed on the ground, G-rated. Compared to the
Daily Press
, the
Mail
was like a bun without the hotdog. Ginny would be breathing fire. Scooped. I called the paper. Mel picked up right away.
“Great job, Shep!” Mel laughed. “We shucking raped the
Mail
!”
I hate it when people call me Shep.
“Mel, why is my name on the story?”
“You’re faking welcome. Sparky told me everything. You set the whole gob-smacking thing up. Without you, we would have zip. You’re too modest. I want my star reporter up front and in their faces. Hey, you’re flipping famous again.”
“Great. Look, I have another thing
Daily Press
photos and video show that the married Hardstein, a father of three and grandfather of two, died after engaging in extra-marital hijinks with his young playmates just minutes after he refused to comment to a crowd of media outside his home—uttering his last public words: “Sorry, I have a pressing appointment.”
© Copyright, N.Y. DAILY PRESS.
I was still new to newspaper work and had no clue what the word “hijinks” meant. Inside, page after page of huge photographs of the senator and his teen partners, with more black tape over certain body parts to reduce the exposure from X-rated to PG-17. There was also black tape over the ladies’ eyes, hiding their identity but not much else.
Wow. And my name was on it. How did that happen? I couldn’t put it down.
“PRESSING APPOINTMENT? The Senator Presses the Flesh in His Last Campaign, as one of his admirers sucks on an odd cigarette.” The video frame-grabs were numbered in series, like a comic strip, of the action and death and the flight of the ladies, then the arrival of the cops. There was a website listed—a pay-per-view site to view the copyrighted video for $9.99. Further in, two pages were dedicated to exclusive interviews with the two girls.
HARD-ON HARLOTS
“He was, like, really old but he was always cool before. This time, he just friggin’ fell over. Maybe he took too much Viagra,” said one escort—who asked to be called “Caprice.” Her partner, “Swag,” said they preferred to be identified as “sex industry workers.” They both agreed that if they ever voted they would cast their ballots for Hardstein. Just before the fun turned fatal, they said, the liberal Hardstein asked them to sing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” Yesterday was not the senator’s birthday. “Dickie loved that song,” said one of the sex industry workers. “He was totally bonus. I’m, like, totally sad.”
The girls revealed their prices and menu for sex, all detailed in a chart on page seven, next to a spread of real estate photos of the penthouse—presumably for sale soon—and speculation on who might buy it and whether Hardstein’s widow might get more or less money because of the infamy of his ignominious end there. There was even a shot at Ginny Mac, under a small photo of her pressing her chest against Hardstein. They had air-brushed her cleavage to make it look more revealing and her expression more slutty.
MAIL BOOB JOB FAILS
An unnamed
New York Mail
reporter, left, unethically presses her chest against the doomed senator in a failed bid for an interview. But her shame went largely unnoticed in New York—because no one is reading the
today. Everyone is getting the whole story, exclusively—only in the
Daily Press
! Don’t forget to view the shocking video online. Adults only!
Oh, man. I picked up the warring tabloid from the porch. Ginny had a story on the front page with another big headline:
HARD-ON DEAD
Ginny’s piece was very similar—but totally without the girls or the sex or the Viagra. They never saw the pastel ladies, never launched a drone. They were caught flat-footed on the ground, G-rated. Compared to the
Daily Press
, the
was like a bun without the hotdog. Ginny would be breathing fire. Scooped. I called the paper. Mel picked up right away.
“Great job, Shep!” Mel laughed. “We shucking raped the
!”
I hate it when people call me Shep.
“Mel, why is my name on the story?”
“You’re faking welcome. Sparky told me everything. You set the whole gob-smacking thing up. Without you, we would have zip. You’re too modest. I want my star reporter up front and in their faces. Hey, you’re flipping famous again.”
“Great. Look, I have another thing
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