The salesman put a briefcase on the table in front of Jenny and lifted the lid
Inside were dozens of tongues. Wet. Crawling. Like a pile of earthworms.
“You wanted French?” he said, digging around the pile. He pulled out a tongue and looked it over. “Let’s try this one. Open wide.”
Jenny opened her mouth, and the salesman yanked out her tongue. Then he stuck in the tongue from the pile.
“Say something,” he said.
Jenny spoke, but she couldn’t understand a word.
The salesman pulled out another case. “You’ll need these, too.”
Inside was a pile of ears.
Tag: sick
Huevos
I thought about making up my own religion, but decided that it was easier to just corrupt an existing one.
So, I found a small town in Ecuador and, through trickery and technological sorcery, convinced the people that the Easter Bunny was real, and he demanded painted eggs as sacrifices.
Any home without decorated eggs gets a visit from the bunny, and he steals the testicles of all the men.
After a few years, I went back to the town.
All the men had painted their balls bright colors.
Next time, I hire a professional translator instead of using Google.
Nancy’s Face
If you asked her out, Nancy would say “Sure. Let me go put on my face.”
And then she peels off the face she had on, wipes away the glue, and sticks on a fresh face.
She always makes sure she has at least two faces left in the pack.
You never want to run out of faces, and sometimes the last face in the pack ends up squished, like the last slice of a loaf of bread.
Satisfied, she smiles, and tosses the old face into a cage.
The rats chew the face to bits as it screams silently.
The Wish
I hear screaming.
It is coming from the well.
They say it is a wishing well.
I pushed the bad man into the well.
I made a wish:
I wish the bad man would stop hurting me.
I asked him for some coins to throw into the well.
He took them out of his pocket, laughed, and said…
No.
So, I pushed him into the well.
Him, and the coins in his pocket.
And I made my wish.
But he’s climbing back out.
Angry.
Maybe, if I hit him on the head with a shovel, my wish will come true.
Drag The Kids Around
It’s Halloween again.
There are only two houses on our street: ours and the Smiths.
When Halloween rolls around, the Smiths knock on our door for candy, and then we knock on their door.
No one else comes into our street to trick-or-treat. It’s just us.
We don’t even get out real candy. It’s play candy from some kind of preschool playset that we pass back and forth.
The kids don’t mind. They don’t like candy. Or much of anything, because they’re dead.
We dig them up to drag them around.
At least their pretty costumes will always fit them
Drive In
There aren’t many drive-in movie theaters left. The days of bringing in a bottle of scotch, sneaking your date in the trunk, and steaming up the windows are almost a thing of the past.
There’s an abandoned drive-in theater just outside of town. Watching a movie on a laptop computer’s not the same as the big projection screen, but nobody’s really going to be watching the movie.
I park the car, open the trunk, and look at my date.
She screams. The duct tape wrapped over her mouth and nose must have come loose.
I hate it when they struggle.
Apology
I check my mail.
She asks me to accept her apology again.
What apology?
I don’t accept apologies that aren’t genuine. And I don’t accept them when the person won’t admit that they made a mistake.
“I’m sorry that you feel hurt by this” is how they usually start things off.
That’s not an apology. That’s an attempt to blame you for catching them doing you wrong.
Don’t accept that bullshit. Tell them no. And don’t trust or forgive them until they get their shit straight, and they set things right.
And never, ever apologize for demanding a real apology.
Adopt A Minefield
Someone told me that there was a charity called “Adopt-A-Minefield.”
I needed a tax write-off, so I sent them a check.
A few days later, I received an envelope from them that contained a receipt and brochures.
They detailed their global projects to eliminate landmines from current and former war zones so that farmers could farm fields and kids could play safely.
One day, they hoped to create a landmine-free world.
I dropped the brochure in horror.
Clear mine fields?
Ban landmines?
I logged into my website, landminesforsale.com, and checked the sales figures.
Good numbers.
I sighed in relief.
Bloody Word Games
Most people work out the crossword in pencil, but confident people work it out in ink.
Then there’s the crazy ones who do their crosswords in blood.
I’m not talking about scratching a nib against a mosquito bite.
No, these are the wackos who slash a wrist or a thigh to get their own blood.
Even though this tactic guarantees a free-flowing supply, it puts a rather draconian time limit on your puzzle.
Well, that, and you’ll stain the newspaper… and the table… and the carpet…
Speaking of which, what’s a 10-letter word for binding wounds?
Hurry… I’m blacking out.
The Frog Princess
The princess found herself a prince, but he’d been cursed into the shape of a frog.
He told her that the curse would be lifted if she were to kiss him.
“At least that tasted good,” the princess said to the still-cursed frog prince.
“Maybe you need to do something else?” said the frog.
Grinning, she lifted her dress and shoved the squirming frog between her legs.
The experience was magical in more ways than one.
Exhausted, she looked up at her prince.
“Marry me,” she said.
“Hell no,” said the prince. “You fucked a frog, you disgusting freaky bitch.”