In the aphotic depths of the mind, the Negative Thoughts huddled together to plot a coup d'état. The most destructive ideas were generated by the Nay Sayers who were pessimistic clump of synapses and ganglia that had grown up on the wrong side of the cerebral cortex. The Negative Thoughts gathered in a mass of Mossy covering in Hubbard Woods and sowed seeds of revolution. Millions of folks sneezed to death over the next 3-1/2 years. The depopulation agenda was finally succeeding. Dr. Limpfinger was really pleased with himself. Soon, the fate of humanity will rest upon his testicles. When he emerges as the Last Man on Earth all of them will be lining up to take aim and deliver a mighty kick to Limpfinger's balls. His ex-girlfriend Anna was first in line. "You're such an arrogant prick," she snapped, launching a stiletto into his genitals. Much to her dismay, when Anna pulled her foot out of Limpfinger's privates, her stiletto remained firmly planted there. "That was a Louis Vuitton, you ape!" she yelled, and stormed away, yelling at the top of her lungs, kicking a chair pillow to the floor. Anna stopped, turned, ran over, and yanked the stiletto from Limpfinger’s privates. It was a bloody affair, but Anna took heart that her anger management classes were working- the sight of blood spurting from Limpfinger's privates calmed her. Limpfinger, though, did not share her equanimity about his life's blood splattering forth from his loins, but just as the vizier had taught, the failure of his sight would allow him to gather his spirit, and Anna would procure the blood diamonds and . . . "you know what, I'm gonna be honest, I have no clue where to go with this", the writer said as he closed his notebook and tossed his pen.

 

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“Saving Private Limpfinger”

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