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Upon walking into Levitz and finding the Colonial settees of yesteryear replaced by a new line of pleather patio furniture, Andrew became aware of a foreboding sense of emptiness. This was replaced by an equally foreboding sense of emptiness--precisely the same feeling, actually, and thereby hard to fathom why it needed to be distinguished from the original one. Disoriented by this, Andrew slumped into the hollow of an enormous half-priced beanbag. He struggled to suppress the flashback that began to emerge, but wavy lines and the strum of a zither were spliced in, and a ghastly 1957 scene firmly implanted itself into his mind's eye:

Three small overturned Dixie cups sat in a row on Dr. Dunson's desk. Andrew could not look away from the doctor's piercing gaze. A high pitched whining and the sound of running water could be heard from the next room. Dunson's unibrow shifted slightly, causing a pang of fear to ricochet around Andrew's body and settle in his perineum: It was time to choose.

Hand trembling, the small boy at last pointed to the third cup. Dr. Dunson lifted it.

There it was: the tiny plastic boat.

"No!" screamed Andrew.

"Perhaps you'd be interested in one of our inflatable models, then?" A raspy voice jerked Andrew out of his trance. How long had the ancient salesman been standing next to him? Andrew tried to jump up, but found himself helplessly enmeshed in the clutches of the amorphous beanbag. A beat passed. Then Andrew's gaze fell on the salesman's nametag. Could it be? His jaw fell open in horror. Before he could shut it again, a familiar pockmarked shaft darted out from the salesman's trousers like a snake, and slid down Andrew's gullet. Fat lot of good his defrocking by the ADA did me, thought Andrew bitterly as the misshapen cock's salty, Viagra-enhanced contents were deposited deep into his esophagus. Not even a prize this time.

Date Written: April 25, 2002
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.75

03/28/2003 Dylan Danko (5): Splendid
02/12/2004 scoop (5): First two lines, last two lines -- sheer genie-uss. This should be held up as some kind of examplar or something. Its important, Dammit! Is waht I'm trying to say.
06/13/2004 scoop: Hey you ass holes, why don't you vote on this? Because your ass holes, ass holes? Is that it, ass holes? Or is it something different this time, ass holes? God, you all are a bunch of ass holes. Another stemaing, heaping ladle-full-o'stars for you , brother, for channeling this short in to the universe for all to enjoy.
06/13/2004 qualcomm (4): the pang of fear settling in his perineum might better have been described as a tickling in his groin
06/13/2004 scoop: Hey The Lerpa. Hey. Hey. F you.
06/13/2004 John Slocum (5): I thought I had voted on this one, but clearly having not voted, I will now. One of my favorites.