There is really nothing better than the smell of a home cooked meal. I can say that Americans partake in this activity proudly and often. This overpowering urge to consume mass quantities has caused bloated bodies from fast food. The healthy eaters in America are the minority and will someday support the majority as they have heart attacks and strokes. Because of this troubling future, we have sworn to make everyone healthier by visiting each person one on one.
The mission that lies ahead of us will take us through an embattled dark and moistened frontal attack that will hellish perils and death. For this reason, we have chosen the team with great care. The first is Seedy our science officer and has been researching the mission for several months. Chocolate is our medical officer and has been researching possible health risks that we may encounter during the mission. The security officer is Mr. Fields and was born in the rolling hills of Kansas where he was taught self-defense at a local community college. Lastly, we come to the captain and navigator of the mission. My name is Semi, and I will give you the descriptions of the mission through a wireless microphone.
I will caution you that there will be graphic content and I will not pull any punches on describing them. For this reason, I suggest that you not let the young, elderly and recently dined into the room. I soon find out that the mission has gone critical due to the presence of the evil Dr. Dish and his henchman, Cole. This menacing individual is currently ahead of us by several hours and is already caused damage to the delicate subsystems in the tunnel. Our only hope is that the damage is reversible.
The page comes for the team to assemble and start the journey into the darkened cave and be devoured by our host, David. He lifts his utensils from his plate and starts to cut me up. “MMMMMMM, semi cooked beef. Oh, how I love your taste with steak sauce,” comes from David’s full mouth. The feeling of teeth gnawing, ripping and tearing my body apart is an odd
sensation and unlike any I have felt before. My focus begins to slip as I find myself swallowed and making my decent down the esophagus. My conciseness returns as my carcass descends into his stomach and I begin my report. “This is Semi calling the control center, do you read me?” The control center responds, “We hear you loud and clear.” The pain begins to subside and I pull my body parts together so that the mission can be completed. At that moment, I see a bright flash of light from above and Chocolate has been consumed.
Our host responds, MMMM... I love milk. The funny thing about Chocolate is that he’s just ordinary milk. His college buddies game him the nickname of Chocolate because he was so healthy. It makes me chuckle every time I think about the sarcasm in his name. The tunnel illuminates again and suddenly goes back to pitch dark. The host speaks again, “I like the taste and feel of whole wheat bread on my pallet.” Mr. Wheat Field tumbles down David’s throat. Another flash of daylight is followed by pitch darkness. David speaks again, “I love it when an apple is so crisp and fresh. An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Seedy Apple soon finds himself on his trip down to the stomach. So far everything is going according to plan.
I finally make it to the stomach and the stench is quite foul. The smell is a blend of grease, decaying gum, stomach acid and sugary punch. I gasp several times to keep my lunch down and I can hear others behind me vomiting. It appears that he has been eating fast food his entire life. The others soon find themselves in the stomach and we gather together to begin our quest. Mr. Field assumes the lead and tells us to stay away from the pockets of deadly stomach acid. Mr. Field speaks up, “Perhaps we can sneak around the acid and escape unscathed?” We attempt the maneuver but the stomach acid is quite clever and soon realizes that we are trying to escape. Mr. Field sees no other way to succeed and volunteers himself to create a distraction. We all wish him well and Mr. Field starts yelling things about their ugly mothers and their fathers being jalapeno peppers. The stomach acid launches a complex blindside with brilliance and Mr. Field does his best to defend himself. The acid delivers several body and head punches before Mr. Field decides to absorb them into his body. He doesn’t even realize that his screams can be heard outside of the stomach. We all bow our heads in solute for his sacrifice and into the bowels of David we go.
It is darker than we anticipated and thankfully we brought our methane containers. The intestine provides a plethora of methane and we capture enough in our containers but realize that all of our matches are wet. We frantically search and Seedy says that he has one stashed inside of him in a seed pod. “You guys will have to cut me open. I start to choke up as I tell Seedy that he is one of the bravest individuals I have ever been acquainted with. I remove the steak knife out of my pack and begin to slice open his midsection. His screams are not pleasant which match the nasty sticky mess that oozes out of his cuts. I try to hold his mouth shut and ask, “Can you please stop screaming as it is rather irritating.” The search through his lifeless body continues until we have a successful retrieval of a dry match. The light soon provides a nice ambiance that only methane can provide. Looking over his body I ask the question. “Who wants to say something before we push him down the digestive track?” Chocolate steps forward to give a eulogy. He begins, “This fine red apple gave his life today to save a higher being on the food chain. It was only a few months ago that he was born and then ripened into a crisp juicy apple. His fate was sealed the day when he was picked from his mother. His time was limited but he knew what he had to do. May the digestive track be kind on his soul.” I kick his carcass down the chute and we all start whistling Johnny Appleseed.
We regroup and begin our descent further into the intestine. I ask, “Can you please give me an analysis Chocolate?” He uses his scientific gear and responds, “The instruments tell me we are in conditions similar to a porta john.” I respond, “My nose could have told me that. Let’s get moving and find Dr. Pan.” The remaining team members move further south and after some time they hear screaming. We double time our pace and find a beast attacking Cole. “What in the hell is that thing tearing Cole apart?” Chocolate responds, “That is a parasite and I would hypothesize that he just returned from Mexico.” We stand motionless as the events continue and it dawns on me that I have no idea what Cole is short for and ask Chocolate. He replies, “It is short for cholesterol and as you can tell he cannot spell. I suggest we relax and enjoy the show as we don’t have to do anything.” The fight is soon complete and the parasite has finished his less than precision surgery. I then come to the conclusion that we have to get past the parasite in order to capture and destroy Dr. Pan. I ask Chocolate if he has any ideas.
Chocolate reaches into his bag and pulls out a syringe. “We can shoot him full of antibiotics but I need to get close to him to administer. I volunteer for the job as I am the only one
qualified to use a syringe. Good luck to you.” He flashes a grin that only Chocolate could muster and he rushes the parasite. I thank my stars that he had an addition to shooting up strawberry flavoring. I am soon by the parasite and look back long enough to see Chocolate taken apart by an illegal alien.
I continue on and finally catch up with the Doctor. I shout, “Let’s end this game now.” The Doctor responds, “Semi, I should have known that David would send a piece of cheap beef to do his dirty work for him. This should take all of about thirty seconds.” He has to be the most pompous deep pan pizza I have ever met. I respond, “Do you think your Doctorate from a fancy school will prepare you for a steak wielding crazed steak?” The Doctor smiles and says, “Come on. You really must be joking with all of the heroics. All I need is this highly sharpened piece of pepperoni and I can cut you apart from afar. Good think that I came prepared with extra pepperoni.” The pan pizza has some skills as he throws the pepperoni slices and imbeds into my midsection. The pain is more irritating than anything else and I go on the offensive with my knife. “You have messed with the wrong person as I am USDA certified beef and nothing is going to stop me from kicking your ass.” I decimate the pizza into small pieces and my mission is soon complete. I sit down in the fecal matter to recap and clear my thoughts and celebrate the victory. It is now time for my transformation into another form, human feces. I say goodbye to the colon and hello to the sewer system as my final thoughts are to help fertilize some third world countries vegetable garden.
Gonorrhea is something that not everyone likes to talk about. This overly transmitted sexual disease will cause the user some extra time at the local doctor. The receiver will have some itching and scratching and possible rotting of appendages. As disgusting of a disease as Gonorrhea is, people still find ways to contract it. The frequent users of Gonorrhea have given it the nickname of Gon. I know that the nickname is much like gone, but they will not have that pleasure any time soon.
The problem with Gonorrhea is that people don’t understand it. The receivers go through agony and chastise the disease. The Doctors look and it and say, “What have you been screwing?” The patients can only shrug their heads and say, “Damn Gonorrhea!” This is an interesting statement from someone that doesn’t have a clue where Gonorrhea comes from. I pose the question to you, the reader, that we investigate Gonorrhea in further detail so we can make a final judgment.
The early years of Gonorrhea are much like a baby in the womb. We don’t normally think of Gonorrhea as life, but it does have a right to be recognized as such. I can just picture this little
seed nestled in its warm spot for its short gestation period. Once the Gonorrhea emerges from its early life nap, it feels big enough to tackle the task of conquering new frontiers. These adventures in exploration soon end and frustration soon engulfs its mind. It thinks of suicide and damn near reaches its limit when a ship signals it arrival to the port. Snapping out of its daze, it gets dressed up in the finest tailored suit around. It rushes to the port and listens intently to the docking ship. A booming voice from the ship fills its tiny ears, “I cannot
get it up and sorry about the stain on your shirt.”
The disease is disappointed as the ship was only docked in port for a few moments and then departed rapidly. He hopes and prays that the ship will be back soon. As he loiters around the dock area, his attention is quickly diverted to a new ship docking. As his eyes adjust to the ship it realizes that it’s the same ship. The sound of the walkway hitting the wooden dock is a promising sign as he gets his best formal tux on. His mind races with all of the standard questions. “Do you take any antibiotics? Do you have a jungle or are your barren like a desert? Does another strain live here?” A smile crosses his face from the sounds of a high-pitched squeak from his white shoes. Arriving at the dock a look of disgust comes across his face and can only say, “Damn rubbers!”
Many days and nights pass and depression overcomes his mind as he feels that visiting other lands are impossible to ascertain. Late one evening he hears that sounds of a ship entering the dock. Springing to attention and quickly getting dressed, he makes his way to the dock to see a sleek vessel that flows through the water with ease. When the boat docks, he jumps aboard and soon realizes something is wrong. The ship is plastic with a glossy finish. The disease dips his head in defeat he speaks, “Damn dildo.” With his head low and dragging his appendages, he makes his way home. The booming vibrations from the dildo help numb the pain of disappointment. As he turns the corner his teeth stop shaking and vibrating, which stops him in his tracks. Turning to the vessel he sees a new opportunity and jumps aboard
the ship. He waves goodbye and off he heads to new lands.
The Gonorrhea strand settles down in its luxury high rise condo. All of his needs are met and has no intention to depart this wonderful place. There are many port visits and after many
months, he decides to visit the front of the ship for a better view. It sees another port for the taking but there is something strange about it. The disease disregards the oddities of the port and once docked it jumps out to claim the new land. Gonorrhea soon realizes this is not a port but rather a sewage exit. Completely disgusted he realizes that the ship was bisexual. Gonorrhea falls sobbing to the ground and says, “Damn asshole!”