Wednesday, January 12



"Great!" he yells. "How am I supposed to sort through all this? There isn't time to sort through it all!"

"Um." she says. "What do your arms look like?"

"How should I know?" he yells as he stomps around in circles. "There's a right and a left! Four fingers, two palms, some elbows! Hurry!"

"Oh." she leans down and shuffles through the pile of arms with her still-attatched feet. "Hey, there's my left hand. You can tell because of the unicorn I drew on it with my pen."

He yells in a fit of furiousness, stomps some more, and kicks her unicorn-adorned arm as hard as he can.

"Hey," she shuffles over to where it landed and leans down to inspect it. "I need my arms, too."

"How am I supposed to get my arms back with all this chitter-chatter going on?" he jumps up on the pile of arms and starts kicking, severed limbs going every which way. "I can't do anyting without my arms, and I have lots and lots to be doing! Important lots of things!" And he yells again with the furiousness.

She finds her other arm. She knows it's hers because of the plastic ring she got from the quarter machine at the grocery store. It's shiny metal with a plastic pink stone on it.

With her feet she gently pushes both arms together a safe distance away from the yelling man. She turns back to help him find his arms.

But he keeps kicking and yelling and she keeps getting hit in the face by airborne limbs. Eventually she decides to leave him to himself, and shuffles back home to have her own arms sewn back on. She's going to need them to hug all of her friends, feed her pets, do handstands, and tie that cute boy next door to her bed so she can impregnate herself on him and finally have the family she's always wanted.

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