Flee – A Limerick

There once was a man who would flee
A store with an armful for free
He dodged the alarm
And with oodles of charm
Sent the cops on a goose-chase, yippee!

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That Something

“It’s missing something,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

Petra frowned at her. “Did you remember the eye of newt?”

“Of course! It’s the main ingredient.”

“How about the toad toes?”

Samantha snorted. “They were a pain in the ass. Picking all those tiny nails off?”

“You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Normally not. But the little buggers had been to the salon. I didn’t want nail polish in the brew.”

Petra pointed her own sharply filed nail at her friend and winked. “Good thinking.”

“What else might I be missing?”

“No clue. This is what you get for not writing down the recipe when Zelda was still alive.”

“That’s it! She always used to cry a tear into it. What are we going to do?”

Petra squinted. “I think I can squeeze a tear out.”

“No!” Samantha cried. “Zelda was a virgin. That’s the whole purpose behind this concoction. To help us become born-again virgins, so we can experience having our cherries popped again.”

“Right. So who do we know who’s a virgin. Oh, I know! That Jimmie brat down the street. I’d like to make him cry for digging my asparagus up last spring.”

“Let’s go get him!”

***
Three months later…

“I think all we’re missing is the last ingredient,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

“Excellent. Little Suzie’s just waking up.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of this penis.”

“Nope,” Petra said, scratching her balls. “Me neither.”

#SoCS – Facelift

It started with a pimple on my nose. A small one it was to begin with – a little red dot right on the tip. I noticed it while I was admiring my new facelift in the mirror, on the night before I was to take a flight down south. I was looking forward to my vacation in the sun. Little did I know.

***
Sitting in the sun all day, reading a book on the beach made my pimple grow. When I came in to get changed for dinner, I looked in the mirror and saw that it was three times the size it had been before I left home.
I shrugged it off.

***
A week later and I’m about to board the plane to go back home. I didn’t think they’d let me on–there was talk that I’d need two seats. One for me, and one for my pimple. I didn’t have the money to buy another seat for my now giant proboscis, but if I didn’t make it back to work the next day, shit would surely hit the fan.

***
It’s been a month since I first saw the pimple on my nose. I drag my face around my apartment all day, having lost my job. Surgery is tomorrow. They’re going to cut off my nose. Despite my facelift.

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This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. To play along or to read other posts, click on the following link: https://lindaghill.com/2016/12/02/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-316/