Good Morning Suffering Nematodes,
Yesterday after I slapped him around for his jukebox selections, I saw him do something I thought not remotely possible. His chin began to quiver, and yes this is true; I saw tears form and puddle up in his eyes and overflow onto and over his massive jowls. The rivulet of tears affected by gravity continued their route finding the cleft in his chin finally cascading into his 16 oz beer. He literally was shedding tears in his beer! He tried to hide this emotional outpouring, but to his chagrin, it only worsened.
Grabbing his beer he turned away from me and told me to mind my own business. This is just not like our good friend who normally causes others to cry or worse; so I was concerned. I asked him once more if he wanted to talk about it and again he told me to go away.
Somebody must know something so I began the interview process at the bar hoping to shed some light on Duncan’s bizarre behavior. Sure enough one of our own was able to provide a little truth and light.
Not just in this forum either. Those of you that patronize The Maggot would be shocked to know the identity of this woman as I was. Obviously, she is enamored with his girth and personality which in my book makes the case for internment.
Although it’s a sweet notion in a romantic sort of way, in a clinical sense the whole thing is perverse. I promised not to divulge her identity, but physically speaking she’d be the antithesis of our Duncan. Alcohol does indeed create strange bedfellows and I’d like to believe this was only a one-time event but sadly he’s kept this from us for over a year.
She then proceeds to jump up and down creating a pump-like action that inflates his partially elevated ‘Johnson’ to a fully engorged state seeking the ultimate release! As odd as it sounds it’s nothing in comparison to the second function. Continuing this rhythm she’s able to get enough air that she begins a sick countdown each time her feet meets his skin; 5…4…3…2…1… and impales herself on his little friend screaming obscenities in her delirious pleasure. On occasion, these piercing cries of licentiousness have caused them more than a few embarrassing moments.
When she was allowed to relieve herself she bypassed the latrine and headed straight for the cart and unloaded directly on the bag of ice. I don’t want to be over dramatic here, but it was an ugly mess as you can imagine.
As I understand it the prognosis isn’t good, and our fellow curmudgeon has lost his lover and Karaoke partner. When you see him, please let him know how bad we feel and will keep an eye out for a replacement. God help us.