Gotta Eat (Feed Me, Feed Me)

Damn, I’m hungry. Not hungry in a philosophical sense for a life of greater purpose or in a psychological sense for increased cognizance (Well, I am hungry for those, just that’s not what is occupying my mind at the moment), but the simple hunger that comes from not having food in your belly.

My family has a notorious reputation of unhappiness and temper tantrums when we don’t eat. It gets ugly, you wouldn’t want to see it. Tears are shed, plates are broken, blood is drunken, you know how it goes.

I feel my stomach falling into itself. There is a black hole inside my belly and I can feel its pull sucking me in. Soon my arms and legs will SLURRRP up into my body and my eyes will rocket to the back of my skull and my facial features will inverse themselves. I’m falling into myself and I don’t have much time. The light grows dim and my thoughts seep out of my ears like yogurt from a Go-Gurt. Delicious. Mmmhmm. Yogurt. I wish I had yogurt right now. If I had yogurt, perhaps I could fill the black hole and reverse this terrible predicament I have found myself in.

I look to my left: No yogurt.
SLUUURP – My left arm sucks into my torso.
I look to my right: No yogurt.
SLURRRRRP – My right arm sucks into my torso.
I look at my bed: No yogurt.
SLURRRP SLURRRP – My legs shoot up into my groin.
I look up -My God! There’s yogurt on the ceiling! There’s yogurt everywhere! I forgot that I usually throw half of my yogurt into the air when I eat! I never understood where that half went! Now I know! On the ceiling!

Okay. Think Dom. You have no arms and no legs, but you do have a ceiling full of yogurt just waiting for a tongue to lick it. ThinkThinkThinkThinkThinkThinkkkkkkkk IDEABULB!

Based on some rudimentary calculations, I think if I can spin fast enough I will launch my body into the air, and, and if I time this right, I should be able to smash my face straight into the yogurt.

I flop down onto the ground and use my eyebrow muscles to flip my armless, legless torso into the air and onto my head. I’m balanced, but it’s a precarious balance. No time to think about the potential safety consequences, I gotta spin Mama, I gotta spin!

My eyebrows are strong, I thank the heavens for that, and before you can say, “How the FUCK are you using eyebrow muscles to spin your appendage-less freak body around while balancing upside down on your skull,” I’m spinning like the wheels on a bicycle that is being ridden by Lance Armstrong circa Tour de France win number 4 that is going down a steep hill in San Francisco and that actually is not a hill, but is a straight free fall off a cliff into the ocean near the Fiji Water Corporation headquarters in Fiji. Damn, that’s fast spinning.

I FLY into the air and somersault – once, twice, and three times a lady – and ungracefully slam into the ceiling above with my face. The yogurt holds me in a tight embrace and I inhale the old, musky filth ravenously. One last swallow and I plunge back to the ground. The air whistles through my ears, and a breeze tickles my cock, and my fingers stretch – WHOA – EARS? FINGERS? COCK?

With a roar like a rampaging half-salamander half-Greek toddler, I land back on the ground. Not on my head. Not on my floppy disgusting torso.

On My Feet.

I’m Back.

My hunger has been quenched. My limbs have returned. The black hole – banished…

At least for now…

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