The Sloth had come. My debt to him was overdue

The Sloth had come. My debt to him was overdue by two years. Two years I had run from him. Two years he hunted me. Now, I cower in the shower, and his mob stands beside my urinal.

and, over the urinal the sign read don't look up here the joke is in your hand.

He looked down, realizing he was grasping nothing now. "What the-" he groped his chest, feeling two soft lumps. "I'm a wom-" He zipped up his pants, darting out of the men's room.

He bolted into the women's restroom, pushed past a few startled women and into a stall. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god... what's happening?"

He saw his brother eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the toilet and girl on the floor drinking chocolate milk. OH my godd

, he thought, before carefully closing the bathroom door and deciding that perhaps he needed to get out of the house for a little while. He was just tying his shoelaces when

he got a text: "Meet me in 15 at the stone bridge. We need to talk." He didn't recognize the number. "This could be interesting," he thought. He should have remembered that

it was their anniversary, but what to expect from a guy who doesn't know his own wife's cel number. At the bridge, his tense "who r u?" didn't help matters. "The person you married

in case you don't remember, which you obviously don't!", was the terse reply. She was right. He had but a vague memory of their wedding.

It took place in the Village Green, presided over by Puck the prankster. Our cake was not made of chocolate bit from the finest red velvet ever. It was embalmed by the high priest.