"We'll need you to take off your pants, please."
"Yes, uh-huh, okay. Mm."
I arched my lips in a sexy manner. Both women hurried out, for some reason. Shrugging, I dropped trou and put said trou on the counter.
After stripping off my tiger underwear, I called for them, "Okay!"
They knocked and came back in. I was now sitting on the chair with the sheet over my manhood. The dermatologist, Ashley, looked at me. (Wait, did I bury the lede again? I was at the dermatologist's! All the rest is true.)
"What seems to be the problem, Mr Johnson?"
I had been to the doctor a few weeks before. While I am not a dinosaur, this cartoon perfectly encapsulates my relationship with Dr Poate.
Every time we "do it," he has to complain. As if it's something I enjoy--I mean, I get my rocks off but I don't ENJOY it c'mon people. Then, after a cigarette, he asked if I had any other complaints.
"Well, I still have that, you know..."
"You know... That. In the lower region?"
Dr Poate sighed. "You mean your itchy ass? Still? Again?"
"Yeah. I don't care."
So much for the good doctor. I then decided to see the good people who cut the big gelatinous cyst out of my head ha ha.
Dr Ashley looked into my eyes. She was amazingly young looking. Cherubic, cute pert lips, button nose, wafer chin. And she wore glasses with heavy black frames, as if to lend her childish face gravitas. It wasn't working.
"It really bothers me, sweetie," I said.
Strangely, her assistant standing nearby looked sixteen also. Was I really Galahad in the castle of sweet tender females, and now I'll never leave? Or should I just keep talking about my butt?
"Sometimes I scratch my anal ring so hard I come up with gold. Red gold."
"Mm. And how long have you had this?"
"Well, as you can see by the cartoon up there it's been since 2010. So... a hundred years?"
"Stand up why don't you."
Aw yeah, here we go. Break out the sexy bass groove.
I stood holding the paper blanket to my parts as Dr Ashley and her assistant got a look at my ass. It must have been interesting, because they looked at my ass for a long time. It was my ass, after all. My ass.
"It's nothing too serious. I'll have you take a topical ointment for it."
"Ugh. Don't say ointment. I prefer the term unguent. Classier."
She wrote me a script and told me to please get out of her office. Don't worry, cutie, I called as I was escorted out by security, I'll be back! If you know what I mean by back. My ass.