"The sound effect you just used to describe

"The sound effect you just used to describe it implies that you think taking a poo is a lot like blowing up a long balloon," said the bookish apartment manager scratching his

hairless chin. His name was Turly Curd, ironically enough,& it seemed that ever since he'd taken that 1 psych class down at the community college, he was always analyzing me. "You

-- Turly Curd gasped, and collapsed to the floor. I felt the jugular. Expired. I had personality flaws and mental disease, but a deadly psychic weapon as well! Using Rorschach

blots I could physically flip left and right brain hemispheres. OK, Turly Curd died from brain-jostling but imagine the potential if anyone survived! I looked at a Rorschach blot &

then my eyes got really blurry. I felt dizzy. I had to sit down. Before I could even get to my couch, I passed out. At least I think I did. Visions of Turly Curd danced in my head.

I awoke in a daze some time later, my bedsheets stained with sweat. Was it a dream?

But I couldn't remember much. In my dreams I always had dementia. That much was certain. I suspected the dreams were fearful, but perhaps I just dreamed I had hyperhidrosis.

The next night I put on deodorant before I went to bed and recited the alphabet backward until I fell asleep. This time I didn't have dementia or hyperhidrosis in my dreams, but

Scooby-Doo appeared in my dreamscape again. "Rheeew, rat smells rike rhinky reodorant!" ruffed Scooby. It was then I realised, this whole adventure had led me to one thing: Toffee