By. Eucalyptus Swain – Kalamazoo, MI
…Jared stood before the two delivery-men. The beads of sweat that had been dripping from his brow now cling to his upper lip.
GONG! A button from his pants pops right off narrowly missing the delivery men and strikes his ancient Chinese gong he had special ordered for every time his beloved Green Bay Packers scored a touchdown. They looked so good in knee high socks and short pants. Like a gay mans Christian school girls outfit.
PING! There goes the last button careening off an urn that holds his dead grandmother and grandfathers ashes. It was a murder suicide. No one saw the irony in combining their ashes into one.
“We’re here to help,” Chip and Pepper, the two delivery men said in perfect unison.
“I can’t control it. It just takes over.”
“We know.”
Like Mount Vesuvius destroying the city of Pompeii Jared’s throbbing member erupts from his pants tearing his boxer briefs in half like hulk Hogan use to do a t-shirt. Jared’s hazel eyes roll back, his body completely limp, all four limbs dangle in the air. Arms and legs hang like a marionette whose puppeteer got sniped mid show and no longer holds their strings.
His penis, now leviathan in size, hovers in the air above the two deliverymen. It opens at the urethra and lets out a guttural scream. Like two cats fighting mixed with the roar of a Harley Davidson the scream would instantly deafen anyone within a 10.4765 foot radius. Yet, Chip and Pepper remain crouched completely ready.
Jared’s penis rises, rises, and breaks through the roof of his small bungalow like home. Completely silent it plummets back towards Chip and Pepper, the urethra exposing its huge fangs with smaller fangs attached.
Like catching lightening in a bottle the delivery-men that always spoke in complete unison evade the plummeting penis with little fangs attached to four giant ones. With Chip on top and Pepper holding on for dear life they sink their fangs into the member. Pepper tries to move over to the one big vain on the side of Jared’s penis for he knew that was the life force of this abomination.
Not knowing how to speak without the other Chip couldn’t call out to Pepper to try to stop him. He could only watch as the penis head snapped his body in half.
Watching his friends body getting snapped in half enraged Chip prompting him to suck like he never has before draining Jared’s penis of its blood returning it to its original size.
Without his partner Chip would never speak again.
7 Hours Later
Jared awakes to Chip sitting on an ottoman and a stranger above.
“Wakey, wakey, Jared,” the stranger whispers.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Taken aback by Jared’s forcefulness the stranger rears back and slaps Jared hard across the face.
“Watch your mouth son. You don’t talk to your father like that!”
Stunned Jared passes out again.
2.35 Hours Later
“What the fuck just happened!” Jared screams again.
When he closes his mouth he bites his lip spurting blood.
“Breaking in the new fangs can be tricky.” The stranger meanders over to Jared. He offers his hand.
“Dale. Nice to meet you son.”
With his eyes open and his penis finally under control Jared knew without doubt, “Daddy.”
“Son, I know you have a lot of questions but time is of the essence. You are the chosen one. It was of utter importance that we got to you before the others. You must learn to harness that tremendous power of yours.”
He pokes his sons dormant penis.
“For the sake of good and not evil.”
Jared sits up running his fingers over his newly fashioned fangs.
“Daddy? That’s cool and all but I’ve got to know. Am I gay?”
“Would you rather have sex with men then women?”
“Yes.”
“Well there you have it. Now get up it’s time for the training montage.”
This weeks chapter comes from Eucalyptus Swain. Holy shit I’m not kidding around. That his or her first name. Eucalyptus is from Kalamazoo, Michigan. Holy shit squared. Not sure which is better being from a place called Kalamazoo or having the name Eucalyptus. (It’s probably being called Eucalyptus, calling Kalamazoo home, and getting tantric) T.M.C. is going to assume that we can call her/him Ptus for short. So thanks Ptus from Kalamazoo you are this this chapters winner!
ANYWAY, this is when you, the reader, takes over. Email dres@themiddlestchild.com with your continuation of the story. The only constraint = make it around 500 words, and make sure it blows minds. We will look at all of the submissions and choose one with which to continue with. A new segment will be posted once a week.
Ready, set, tape a bottle of two buck chuck to your hand and a forty in the other to have a social climber party. (just drink the 40 first)
