The First Page

“SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR GODDAMN SCREAMING YOU BITCH! I’M TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!” you yell at the woman strapped to the table.

Normally you don’t mind the screaming, indeed it can even bring a smile to your face, but right now you’re trying to write a love poem to your sister and it’s very difficult to focus when someone’s screaming for help. You have no idea why either, it should be painfully obvious to her by now that nobody’s going to come in to play white knight.

“Alright I can’t take this anymore. Some people are so inconsiderate!” you say taking your scalpel and turning on your camcorder on the tripod. “Subject number: 483, proceeding to dissect vocal cords.”

With a couple of quick flicks of your wrist and cuts with your scalpel and it’s done. No more screaming. As you sew her throat back up, you giggle a bit since your patient looks a little funny attempting to scream, but nothing coming out. You remember back in the old days you didn’t have such skill and you resorted to cutting out their tongues. Very messy! But medical school paid off eventually. Sometimes you can forgive ol’ Mom for pushing you into becoming a doctor, when she wasn’t beating you with a ballpeen hammer that is.

Now back to the matter at hand, your love poem to your beautiful sister. Your anniversary is coming up and Hallmark just doesn’t make cards for this occasion. Ah, just thinking about her gives you a big pink boner. You begin to grab yourself in a naughty way.


Fuck! There’s the doorbell! It’s probably those fucking Mormons again!