Picking up the Parted Pieces

Lacuna Coil—“Karmacode”

MoTW—“Kontroll”

I had found almost all of the hidden objects in the magazine when I was
by the receptionist. My dad pulled the magazine from my hands and yanked
me from the chair. As I slowly walked to the examination room he began
kicking me in the ass trying to hurry me along, which actually worked.

As I sat on the exam table, I wondered how long I had to live and what I
would need to do if I really did have a tumor. Travelling around the
world was out since I didn’t have much money and nothing else really
appealed to me so I figured I would lock myself in my bedroom and burn
things since that gave me great pleasure. Of course that would happen
after I lost my virginity to one of the numerous town whores wandering
around.

When the doctor finally appeared, I had accepted my short life and was
ready for any news he had. Instead of news though, he handed me a clear
plastic cup.

“Is this for my personal belongings?” I asked saddened that this
supposedly caring individual would think that in my life I had
accumulated only enough to fill a small cup.

“No, you moron,” he said. “It’s for you to pee in.”

This seemed to be an odd request especially if I was at death’s door,
but I went ahead and did it anyway figuring I had nothing to lose. I
figured they wanted my pee so that they could run a multitude on tests
to figure out what went wrong with me and maybe come up a cure so other
youth like me wouldn’t be struck down at such an early age.

When I was done he told me to go sit in the waiting room while he talked
with my parents. As I was leaving the exam room I asked him if it all
started with visions of shit flinging monkeys but he didn’t reply.

As I passed my parents in the hallway I started crying and apologized
for all my wrongdoings. They both gave me an odd look which I figured
was par for the course for parents of young ‘uns who were about to kick
the bucket.

Someone had nabbed the Highlight magazine I was reading earlier so I
picked up a Sports Illustrated and started paging through it as the
tears flowed from my eyes.

Why me/ I though as I flipped the pages and then all thought exited from
my brain as I came upon a picture of a woman in a bikini. I turned the
page and there was another woman in a skimpy bathing suit and I smiled.
I wiped the snot dripping from my nose and flipped the page and gazed
upon another beauty in a bathing suit.

My upcoming death exited my thoughts as I gazed upon page after page of
scantily clad women. Soon I was panting and squirming in the seat until
I came upon a picture of a model who didn’t look embarrassed that the
suit she was wearing didn’t do a hell of a good job covering her nipples
and that’s when I felt something explode in my groin area.

I suddenly felt at peace and decided I would fight whatever dreaded
disease I might have. I flung down the magazine, stood up and shouted,
“I want to live! I WANT TO LIVE!”

The waiting room was quiet for a moment and then someone started
laughing. I looked around and saw that it was a young boy.

“Look ma!” he said as he pointed at me. “He peed his pants!”

I looked down and, sure enough, there was a wet spot on the front of my
jeans. I quickly sat down and hung my head in shame.

COMING NEXT: Was it really pee?

Stephen Johnson

The idea of building a website with Bob came from Stephen in the days of message boards and chat rooms. We settled on the name TheWeirdcrap.com and the rest is history. Retired since he hit the ripe age of 25, he spends most his time doing odd-jobs around the house and digging thru trash bins for "stuff that's still good." Stephen has contributed several short stories and hosted the "Lunatic Ravings" column since the beggining. The idea of writing weekly columns (blogs didn't exist yet) also came from Stephen. So I guess that makes him the creator of the "blog" phenomena.

https://theweirdcrap.com

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