“All the insects are inside me, incubating, preparing for rebirth. The golden age has come, the age of the toasted tentacle,” Doctor Morthrod explained to Derek Dicknose. Derek was a demon-dispeller, he went from town to town performing exorcisms, and convincing country women to cradle his cock between their yellow crooked teeth. He wore a white suit at all times and spoke with a Southern drawl.
“That’s all fine and fucking fancy, but what about my bit dick? Teeth marks do not titillate the small-town sluts that I take advantage of. I have faces to fuck,” Derek said. He stared into Doctor Morthrod’s super-sized pupils while absentmindedly massaging his nipples. “Those country cunts won’t cum in themselves.”
Doctor Morthrod was producing a puddle of sweat where he stood. He spoke slowly and deliberately, so that he could be certain he wouldn’t seem to be slurring his speech. “I’m going to give you a prescription for Percocet and Xanax. The Percocet is for your penis pain and the Xanax is so that you won’t be so self-conscious. Women are whores. They don’t care about disfigured dicks as much as you might think.” Doctor Morthrod knew he was lying, but he felt lovely, and knew God would forgive him because Jesus. Everything was easy, all was well. He felt like he was floating and heard angels applauding him for his heroic and selfless service to society.
“I know you’re lying. I’ll take your addictive drugs because I can give them to women in exchange for sexual favors, but I’m not fucking happy, not one bit. Speaking of bit, I demand that you look at my dick and tell me that women won’t mind my disfigurement.” Derek raised his ragged hospital gown, and displayed what appeared to be a small hot dog that had been gnawed on by a rabid rabbit. Horizontal indentations went up the entire length of the sorry shaft. “I never used to be circumcised,” he claimed.
“Mazeltov,” Doctor Morthrod mouthed, but for some reason failed to say aloud. Inside his mind, he witnessed a detailed scene of a monkey raping a banana peel with its red erection. “No means no!” He said with his outside voice, and Derek seemed sincerely sheepish when he saw the doctor’s fearful face.
“I’m sorry to spring such a sickening spectacle on you like that, but I need help. Preferably cosmetic surgery. I’ve embezzled enough money from churches to build several churches,” Derek confessed. “If you can pretty up my penis I’ll see to it that you get those lasers attached to your nipples.”
Doctor Morthrod danced around like a dragon taking a dump. “Can you read minds? That’s been my dream since before I was born!” He held out his hand and slowly walked forward, careful so as not to scare Derek. He lightly brushed the tip of Derek’s mutilated member with his middle finger, closed his eyes, and thought happy thoughts. “ET phone home,” he groaned. Derek’s dick started standing straight up. Then a nurse passed by and stopped and stared. She began banging the clipboard she carried against her vagina. Medicine.
Unfortunately, Derek’s dick was not healed or helped, and when Doctor Morthrod felt his finger was touching an erection during a brief break in his dissociation, he abruptly shot backwards and collided with the nurse that was attacking her vagina with her clipboard. The good doctor felt nothing; the nurse screamed in pain and pleasure as she vibrated throughout her whole being with an unexpected orgasm. At the sight of a woman writhing and climaxing, Derek shot out his dumb dirty cum, which arced through the air and glistened in the fluorescent glow from hospital bulbs and landed in Doctor Morthrod’s hair. That was the very first volley, the rest dribbled down onto Derek’s demonic red balls.
Doctor Morthrod shot right up and moved on to the next immobile man, ignorant of the ignoble sperm swimming through his hair. However, he was at the end of the room and rammed into a wall and fell flat on his fat ass. “Nothing happens in God’s world by mistake,” Doctor Morthrod mused, and he twiddled his thumbs. His whole life had been leading up to this moment, this grand chance. He was eye to eye with the creator. He was told the truth.
The cure for cancer is guns! If everyone had guns, they could shoot each other before they got cancer. This was a preventative measure as well as a cure. Cancer cells depend on receiving blood from a living host. Corpses can’t get cancer! Doctor Morthrod was just about to get up and inform his superiors, when the Earth’s core decided it wanted him closer. His head hit the hard hospital floor, and he passed out.
Posted in: Shortened Stories