Today being Friday, I thought I’d share a tale of gruesome happenstance. It is a story that is definitely not for the faint of heart. If you suffer from weak heart syndrome, commonly known as WHS or Lou Gehrig’s Other Disease, consult your doctor before reading further.
It was Friday the 12th, a much more menacing day than the very over-rated Friday the 13th. If one had the luxury to stop, look and listen, they would have noticed the omnipresence of mystical energy so powerful it could only be summed up as freaky deaky.
Like all good narratives, this one begins in a suburban shopping mall. Marcy Leiberman was in the middle of a maternal tirade with her fourteen-year-old son, Josh, over a pair of pre-tattered jeans from the teen trendy store, Hot Topic, on whether or not they were appropriate for school wear. More important, was it economically sound?
It was apparent in Josh’s shrinking stature that he did not want to be there with his mother. His darting eyes did not go unnoticed by Marcy, but she could give two shits because at the end of the day, she was ultimately still Mom.
Suddenly, like the cancellation of a CBS television show, the inexplicable occurred. As Josh handed the jeans to his mother, their hands brushed against each other. There was an intense spark of electricity, followed by the transformation. And like, the movies Freaky Friday of 1976, 1995, 2003 and 2019, The Change Up, 18 Again!, Alison’s Birthday, All Of Me, All Screwed Up, Farligt Venskab, Dame Tu Cuerpo, Day Watch, Dating The Enemy, Seed Of Chucky, Dream A Little Dream, Yuen Mei Ching Yan, Help, I’m A Boy, It’s A Boy Girl Thing, Like Father Like Son, Prelude To A Kiss, Shrek The Third, The Hot Chick, Vice Versa, The Shaggy Dog, and kinda-sorta to some degree, Here Comes Mr. Jordan, and the remake, Heaven Can Wait, The Prince And The Pauper, and Face/Off, Marcy and Josh switched bodies.
Since the invention of all these movies, they understood exactly what had occurred. Marcy had always daydreamed about what she would do in a man’s body. With this, she ran off. Josh, on the other hand, was discombobulated, so he found himself going to the rest room. After avoiding a near disastrous faux pas of entering the men’s room, he proceeded.
Marcy could be found in the parking lot clearing her throat, hockering it all up and spitting over and over. For good measure she belched. The exhilaration of this newfound freedom was unparalleled and very satisfying. Deep down, she had a sneaky suspicion, it would be all this.
Hours later, the drive home was as silent as it was uncomfortable, as Mom in the passenger seat rolled down the window to not only spit, but to air out the funky stench of an active vagina. There was much shame that would be talked about years later after much therapy.