Orders

Jarg Scott

Lou Gehrig’s Cooperstown plague is talking to me again. Lou says, “Ravage your sister before it’s too late.” Who am I to ignore a legend? Like Taboo 2, minus a svelte Ron Jeremy, I barge into her room with hopes of maneuvering her into some hot reverse cowgirl action.

She’s busy. Getting it in the ass from Morgan Fairchild and her strap-on. Morgan is faux-balls deep and is reciting synonyms for diarrhea: “Bud mud. Hershey squirts. Butt soup.” Morgan’s face is melting.

I leave them be, head to the bathroom. I unzip and pull out my semi and piss in the sink. Petunia, my sister’s cat, hops onto the counter and stares at my urine. It’s dark yellow and smells like last night’s sixteen Red Stripes.

The phone rings. “Collect call from Lou Gehrig, will you accept the charges?”

I say yes. Lou says, “Pussy.”

The receiver sprouts teeth and proceeds to chew my ear off.

Jarg Scott is a pseudonym. Jarg Scott has just started sending his erotica, smut, and absurdity out. Keep your eyes and legs open.