Um, Body? May I Have A Word?
You’re disgusting, do you know that? You ooze, and smell, and make godawful noises, and I have just about had enough of you.
Take the spider bite, for instance. Did you really need to make such a major production out of a tiny little thing? I mean, think about it, would you? Here’s this itty bitty nibble from some creature who’s only trying to stay alive. He’s getting by with whatever he can scrounge up, doing the best he can, and you have to make this big fucking ordeal out of it? The swelling was bad enough, and the itch nearly drove me outta my mind, but don’t you think the bloody puss oozing from that HUGE hole was taking things a WEE bit too far? Melodramatic much?
And speaking of major productions, I’m sorry the flu virus got in. Really, I am. I did everything I could do to keep it out; I washed our hands, I got plenty of sleep, and I even took the goddamn shot, but it was a sneaky little bastard and it invaded us somehow. You didn’t have to punish me quite so severely, you bitch. I’m never going to forgive you the Toilet Episode. Never. You couldn’t wait to vomit until AFTER you’d finished the diarrhea? You just HAD to do them both at the same time? You gave me just enough warning so I could turn and kneel at the Porcelain Princess, but you didn’t give me enough time to flush! Making me puke into a pot full of shit went waaaaay beyond torture, you sadist. I’m STILL fucking gagging.
And what in the HELL is with the noise? Fine, you’re hungry. You know as well as I do that there’s a time and a place to eat, and in the middle of a business meeting is neither the time, nor the place. You couldn’t wait for one hour? Just sixty short minutes? I promised you that after the meeting I’d stuff you so full that you wouldn’t be able to breathe, but noooo, you had to whine and rumble and make sure EVERYONE knew that I was starving you. You poor poor thing. Now we can’t go to work without people handing us food at the door. They’re never going to let us live it down. You goddamn baby. I hope you’re happy.
But nooooo, apparently you’re not, because after I fed you (remember the yummy ice-cream?), you filled us so full of gas that I thought we were going to explode. So shoot me for liking ice-cream… but for god’s sake, don’t shoot the people behind me! I tried to convince our date that it was the guy sitting in front of us who was making that stink, but he wasn’t buying it. He knew it was us. You just HAD to let ‘er rip in the middle of the theater when I was laughing so hard, did you? You dumbass. We could have gotten some head, but who in his right mind would want to put his face next to something that smells like that? You are SO outta here.
And now, thanks to your oozing stinking noisy self, we’re stuck here with this LOSER, who was the best we could catch because he has NO standards, none whatsoever, and it looks as if the moron hasn’t a fucking clue what to do with us. I hate you. As soon as he leaves, your pathetic ass is going with him. Who needs you anyway?
What are you letting him do? I can’t believe this! You wicked little pervert! You are going WAY too far this time. You filthy whore! You CAN’T let him touch us THERE! Oh, you bitch. You rotten, SLUTTY, little bitch! You’re gonna pay for this. Oh, I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna. I’m. I’m. Oh. Oh my god. Yes. More. ohmygod yes YES! moremoremore ohhhhhhhh YES! YES! YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!
Jesus H Christ on a freakin’ stick. It’s been so long that I forgot you could do that. Will you do it again? Right now? Pleeease? Pretty please with sugar on top? Okay! Fine! I’ll forgive all your dramas, and noises, and farts. Forget everything I just said! But you have to promise to do that again. EVERYDAY. Have we got a deal? Do you swear? Cross your heart and hope to die and pinkie double SWEAR?
All right. You can stay.