A mini-bar of sex toys

Possibility of a week mountain biking with the lads around Chamonix. We are meant to be looking for suitable accommodation. What’s this? ....seven rooms including the “Myla” suite complete with a mini-bar of sex toys.
The moral imperative to spend is strong, I know. Work and spend and shut your face, and follow a “Faith” to keep you segregated from, in passive enmity to, others with the same ostensible interests in a good life and freedom (in the Enlightenment, not the American sense), knowledge, health, a decent childhood and constructive hope for the future. Work, spend, self-segregate, and you won’t perceive BushBlairBrown for the post-democratic horrorshow they are.
And people obey, so sweetly, so like cattle; the lumpen in Odeons and UCIs, dutifully making a purchase of (not buying, a subversive word, rooted in our history of independent nations) a five litre tub of popcorn and a five litre tub of Pepsi for a bargain price of £7.50 (more than the ticket, but the corps have got to make their profit somewhere) the arms rising and falling in robotic unison, stoking the lard, stoking the lard, brain and body.
People buy what they’re told to buy. That’s how mini-bars work. I guess. I have never used one, but I’ve been behind Americans paying bills in hotels, and they are dutiful makers of multiple purchases and tot up huge sums. I always look at the very small bottles of whatever it is in the minibar and if I feel whisky or wine is what I need, I go to the shop next door and buy a very big bottle for the same amount. Americans are not allowed to do this. Especially the ones with a “Faith”.
Similarly with sex toys. I assume. This is my first inkling of a minibar of sex toys. And I’m not sure whether a week with the lads in Chamonix is an appropriate setting for exploration of its delights. And if I was going to, I think I’d stock up on the Internet before I left. But then there could be a problem travelling with the gear. Not just the embarrassment of disclosure as a whole potential minibar’s worth or Rampant Rabbits and Twisterellas are spilled across the counter by airport security personnel; but I’m not sure where these things stand, especially the more voluminous and rigid, in terms of weapons of terrorist aggression. There is at least a risk, if your searchers are agents of the quisling StrawBlairBrownGov, of being rushed away with a bag over your head and handed over to Americans, put in a cage, and tortured with sex toys even more worrying than the “anal invader” (Qui s’excuse... but that was ten seconds on Google, honest).
So there may be some role for the minibar (would the toys be refrigerated? Is that a good idea?) Personally, if I find myself in sudden need, as with the whisky and the wine, I’ll slip out and find the nearest Ann Summers or equivalent. Otherwise, improvise. As I do at the cinema; by eating and drinking something other than popcorn and Pepsi before I go.