The Eclectic Pen - Beanbag damages


By: Rob E. (baloner)  
Date Submitted: 6/8/2009
Genre: Medical Books
Words: 751
Rating:


  The medical term for it was "scrotal elongation", or "scrotus danglus" in

the Latin. I had rollers the size of tangerines, and they hung near my

ankles. This would have attracted many spectators and would have been the

story of a lifetime, and possibly even been lucrative as a porn star or

perhaps a sideshow, if they didn't hurt so damn bad. I had a habit of

rolling them up into a special pouch that my grandmother knitted up, and

tucking the whole assembly in a safe place. I used to live with Juan K, as

some of you well know, and he was fairly intent that I get off my dead ass

and help out with some chores. I was not interested in chores, and made no

bones about not doing them. One day juanks donks broke into my bedroom and

demanded that I get right out and mow the grass. I didn't have time to

tuck my danglers, and they were especially sore from accidentally getting

flushed down the toilet the night before. That plumber was sure nice. So I

am out in the yard, Juan K is off to work,

and I commence with the mowing. Keep in mind that my juevos, which could

choke a donkey, were not deposited safely in their knitted scrot-purse

that was so carefully fitted. I broke out the mower, and as luck would

have it I was out of gasoline. The pushmower leered out at me from the

interior corner of the shed, maniacally and silently mocking my

consternation. I stepped in, brushed off the dust and cobwebs and rolled

the 80 lb. monstrosity out into the spring sunshine. I had my balls

thrown over my shoulder to keep them out of harm's way, and that was

working out pretty well. Then I began the rhythmic back-and-forth across

the seemingly gigantic half-acre that was Juanky donky's back yard. As I

was approaching the juvenile aspen tree, it happened. My lima beans (and

bag) were pulled through the razor sharp teeth of the bloodthirsty and

mideival machine. I cried out, and fell to my knees. I was still a couple

of feet behind the thing, and my juicy doubles had circled the rotor tw

ice. The pain was blinding, and through the red tinted haze I noticed my

dong was in there too! I morbidly toyed with the idea of calling the

paramedics, but having anyone see what I had done to myself was not an

option that I was willing to entertain. So began the painful task of

extracting my giant swollen bag from the mower. I thought maybe I could

just back it up, but when I screeched the damn thing back just a few

inches, the pain dropped me to my grass stained knees once again. So I

reached in and started to untangle my guys. I freed the end of the land

monster sac, and tilted the mower up to free the rest of the wrap. The

pain was excruciating. I had a couple of deep lacerations that I knew

would require stitches, but going to the hospital dragging my misshapen

and giant nutsac was again, not tempting. I had limited time before Juan K

returned and caught me balls in hand. I knew that he had some pretty

sophisticated surgical equipment, after all it's Juan we're talking about

. My thoughts were reeling out of control, and my calm temperament began

to shift to panic. This wasn't the first time I had a run-in with my balls

getting caught in machinery, but usually it was something harmless like

the spokes of my bike or the vacuum cleaner. I had to figure something out

quick. The only solution was to figure out how to conceal the wreckage of

my flopping appendage, and destroy that infernal pushmower. The bane of my

existence, I would have my day with that twisted-tooth bitch. An epiphany

was dancing on the skirts of my immediate consciousness, and I struggled

to pull it to light. What if I pulled on my tongue? Would that shorten the

beanbag to at least a manageable length? It might be worth a try, but then

I'd have the long tongue to consider. Why not pull it in temporarily, I

mused, and began the arduous task of pulling my beloved tongue. It

resisted at first. I retrieved a pair of antique spaghetti tongs that Juan

kept in the dish drainer by the sink, and

I started to pull my tongue with those. It started with a creaking sound,

and to my amazement my balls began to lift from the floor! I continued

pulling until my sac was a normal length, granted after staring at four

footers for twenty years they were still hanging long, and the

lacerations shrunk with them.Thereafter, I decided I had to do something

about that tongue........



The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Rob E. (baloner)

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Comments 1 to 4 of 4
Sharon W. (sharonwalker) - 6/9/2009 5:51 AM ET
you are wierd
Marta J. (booksnob) - 6/11/2009 8:50 AM ET
Let me guess--you are a big fan of Chuck Palahniuk.
Lo F. - 6/25/2009 11:40 PM ET
LMAO!
Rob E. (baloner) - 6/27/2009 1:51 PM ET
Believe it or not, Chuck P was way too hardcore for my sensibilities. Weird I am for sure.
Comments 1 to 4 of 4