Fleshy Teeth

FleshyTeethThe flesh that grew over Lawrence’s teeth made eating excruciatingly painful. It was a thin layer, but if he ate solid food, it would tear away, leaving gushing wounds around the base of each tooth, until they healed and the teeth were once again covered. When the dentist tried to burn the skin away, it had the same result: rapid regrowth; the teeth were generally covered again within two days. It had been this way his entire life, and Lawrence had just learned to live with it, only eating soft foods.

Then, one day, Lawrence was caught in a fire and a section of his arm suffered third degree burns, requiring a skin graft. The obvious choice for donor tissue was that surrounding his teeth, but the area that needed to be covered was just large enough that the doctor wasn’t sure that the teeth would provide enough donor skin. So, going into surgery, it was decided that, if needed, the doctor would take some skin from Lawrence’s ass as well.

When Lawrence awoke, the doctor was there, so he asked, “Was there enough skin from my mouth?”

“There was. Just barely, but we made it,” replied the doctor with a smile. Then with a wink he added, “Just made it, by the skin of your teeth.”

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A Poorly Planned Approach

PoorlyPlanned

 

Her breasts were mind-numbingly perfect. They were all that I could think about for months. Now that she had decided to give me a chance, and I was standing behind her, I was realizing that I may not have thought it all the way through. I was completely befuddled by the mechanics of the situation; how on earth was I supposed to reach my penis into this centaur’s vagina?

No Stalking – A Guest Comic by Mia Sandara

Mia_67lYxUFHey everyone!
Here is an adorable single panel pun comic done by my good friend Mia ( @triadvstrinity on twitter)!
We decided to do a swap today. Since hers is here, you can check out my comic on her blog (http://www.triadvstrinity.com/tidbits-and-tags/do-nut-pass), which is worth checking out anyway! So once you are done giggling at her goofy comic here, head on over to Mia’s blog and have a look.

On The Right Track

OnTheRightTrack“No, there was a Bigfoot here, Charlie.” Stan was a true believer, he had seen a Bigfoot when he was a kid, and I’m pretty sure that the main reason he had gone to college in Oregon, where we all met, was in hopes of repeating the event. The three of us hadn’t seen each other since the college days and had decided to go camping to catch up. Now, standing over the large print, I was getting the idea that the location might have been chosen with other ideas in mind than just chatting.

“I don’t think these are sasquatch tracks, this is something different,” Charlie replied. Charlie was from Canada and when the topic of large, hairy, upright primates came up, as seemed to do every few minutes now with these two, he sprinkled in the term “sasquatch” to remind us of his roots in the great white north.

“I think Charlie’s right,” I agreed, raising my phone slightly in an attempt to show them the article that I had there, but neither was listening. They had been ignoring me since I had started scrolling through articles before we left camp that morning, bored by their talk of giant forest people and curious about the history of our surroundings. The three of us had mused about the existence of Bigfoot back then, and I had known, of course that Stan believed, but it seemed to me the topic had become more than idle musing for these two in recent years.

“Look,” Stan started, looking at Charlie, “we know they come through here, this is a Bigfoot track, what else could it be?”

“I think I know,” I said, once again lifting my phone towards the two of them.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, the toes look a little funny though, don’t they?” Charlie knelt to point at the row of dips along the front of the depression. When we first met up last night, I had thought Charlie had just been humoring Stan, but as the conversation wore on it became clear that the man knew more about “sasquatch” than a bank teller probably should.

Stan crouched back down beside Charlie and put his face a few inches from the track, “Yeah, something’s wrong, but the weight distribution is weird too, deeper on the toes than usual.”

“Guys, I think you should-”

I was cut off again as Stan continued, “Maybe, he was off balance, or running?” a huge, kid-in-a-candy-store grin was spreading across his face as he said it.

“Oh, that might do it!” Charlie agreed, getting excited now and climbing back to his feet. He brushed at the mud on his jeans while his eyes narrowed and he again looked up and down the river bank carefully. The little patch of mud was surrounded by large smooth rocks and the river was just a shallow step away; it wasn’t much of a wonder that whatever had made the track hadn’t left any others nearby, Bigfoot or not.

“Do we want to run back to the truck and get the plaster?” Stan asked, looking at me for the first time since finding the footprint, “or do we want to look around for a few more first?”

“Well, I’m not sure it’s – wait, you brought plaster?” I asked.

“Looks like there’s another muddy patch over there, let’s go check it out,” Charlie suggested.

The two of them tromped off into the water without reservation, grinning like idiots, and leaving me standing alone in the partial shadows on the bank. As they galloped in their awkward, unstable gait through the water, I chuckled. They reminded me of excited dogs bounding after a tossed branch. I glanced once more down at my phone and the article about the gorilla that had escaped from a traveling circus as it passed within three miles of this very spot. Apparently the gorilla had been seen in the area only three days ago. I turned the phone off and slipped it into my pocket. They wanted so badly to believe, and they were having so much fun searching. Who was I to burst their bubble?

“Wait up,” I called after them as I started pulling off my shoes to charge into the water after them.

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This story was originally published on Saturday Night Reader on June 17th 2014.
They post a lot of great flash fiction; I suggest checking out their page.
http://www.saturdaynightreader.com/

 

Weighed Down with Cash

Weighed_down

Hey Boss,

You weren’t kidding when you said the armored car would be weighed down with cash. Though, it wasn’t exactly what we expected.

Don’t worry, we didn’t get caught or nothing like that. No, we got in just how you said, and we got away clean on the mopeds that your car guy hooked us up with. The guards weren’t no problem neither, we took care of them, nice and easy like always.

Now, you may be asking your self right now, why I’m leaving you a note with your cut of the take, instead of handing it to you directly. That’s because, as you’ll prolly see, I was afraid to be there when you got it, since you might be pretty mad. Trust me, we was all pretty pissed too.

You see, instead of being weighed down with just any cash, this particular car was weighed down with pennies. An entire shipment of rolls of pennies.

On the mopeds, even with all 3 of us guys filling our packs to the top, we could only carry just under $500. After paying your car guy for letting us use the mopeds and filling up the tanks, we was left with $20.50.

So, boss, here you will find your cut of $5.13 (notice we rounded up for your share).

Have a nice day,

Heavy-Foot Duane