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Old 03-15-2016, 01:32 PM View Post #1 (Link) Crazy Dick
Georgy (Offline)
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It was usual Sunday morning, albeit, I was not going to Sunday Church, like many respectable citizens do every Sunday. Instead, I was going to go to boxing club to beat somebody or to be beaten. Either way, that was going to be a fun.
I got up, yawned with pleasure, and went to the kitchen where I boiled up a cup of coffee, and it crossed my mind that it wouldn't be a bad idea to piss before I inject some liquid in my stomach.
I headed for the toilet, unzipped my pants and...Oh My God! I couldn't find my dick.
Not to say I was unable to find it, that was not exactly the case: to say more strictly, there was no dick where it had been before. It has disappeared, vanished into the thin air.
I rubbed my temples to make sure I wasn't sleeping or to wake up if I was.
But it was not a dream, it was monstrous terrible fantastic reality.
My brow and armpits became wet, drops of cold sweat were rolling down my spine. I was on the point of flaking out.
With dizzy head and shaking hands I examined the floor in my house. There was nothing to be find on the floor, except a couple of used chewing gums.
"Did I really think I could drop my dick on the way to the toilet?" I thought in a panic. "Bullshit, that's impossible! That's not the way things are supposed to happen. But somehow this shit happened: I've lost my dick. Where, how and when exactly I had no idea.
I tried to piss in a sitting position, and that turned out to be not so difficult, though it was such a humiliation.
I returned to the kitchen and looked sadly at the cup of cold coffee that was patiently waiting for me. But I felt like it was not coffee that I need but a good portion of whiskey without any water and soda. I grabbed a bottle and made a huge convulsive gulp from the bottle.
A surge of sweat attacked my brow immediately, I wiped it by a towel and tried to collect my will and reason together and overcome the sense of panic that seemed to be trying to suffocate me.
Another gulp helped my hands to become more steady, but dizziness in my head remained so far, albeit it was more pleasant than before.
Somehow my brain seemed more clear and set up in a positive pattern, and I began thinking over the problem.
"When it was that I saw my dick last time?" I thought. "Ok, seems, yesterday evening. The more exact time escaped my memory but I was sure enough I had to piss after several cans of beer, and the process was held in an ordinary and very soothing way. Given after this procedure I didn't leave home, it became obvious my dick was not lost, it was stolen. And it was a matter of no doubt that it had been stolen during the night while I was sleeping."
Not having desire to waste precious time anymore I rushed to my car.
Whoops! I couldn't find my car on its usual place. Well, now I was a double loser, my dick was stolen, my car was stolen.
It was a proper thing to go to police, wasn't it?
I called a taxi, when it arrived I asked the driver to go to the nearest police station.
"My car was hijacked this night," I said when we drove off. "Black mercedes, classic."
"Black mercedes?" the driver exclaimed. "I spotted one early in the morning..."
"Really?" I shouted. "When? Where?"
"On the crossroads of Kingsville and ... or don't remember, look, there was a huge Macy's ads..."
"Fuck Macy's!" I interrupted vigorously. " In what direction it was moving?"
"It was not moving," the driver looked askance at me. "The car was at a gas station, a station guy was filling it..."
"Damn, who was inside?"
"There was nobody inside," the driver shrugged. " It was standing near the car and chatted with a sexy blond..."
"Wait, what do you mean by saying "it"?"
" I don't really know how to explain," the driver seemed embarrassed. " You won't beleive me, but, listen, at first sight it seemed a usual guy, wearing a long black coat, but after a more focused observation he turned out to have not a head but a dickhead, that is, it was not a guy, it was a dick of huge size."
"Oh, my god! My dick has stolen my car!" I couldn't checked eruption out of my breast.
The driver smiled at me and said shaking his head " Oh, dear, if that were your dick, you'd be TV show star without breaking a sweat."
"I'm more likely a star of Horror show at the moment," I exclaimed in despair.
" Calm down, buddy," the driver said. "We're gonna get to the police station in a five minutes."
"Stop!" I screamed. "That's it! My car!"
The taxi stopped, and both of us stared at the black mercedes, parked in front of a little cafe. Near the car I saw a tall figure clad in a black coat surrounded by a flock of girls.
"Son of a bitch! My coat!" I gritted my teeth, and clenched my fists.
The guy was telling vigorously while the girls giggled and laughed enthusiastically.
I was going out of the car but the driver caught me up the sleeve.
"Twenty bucks, pal," he said.
I paid out and said to him " Please, wait for me, I have something to do here. It won't take long."
" Okay," the driver nodded. "You're honest with me, I'm honest with you. You sure you can handle this alone? Just for such shitty cases I have a gun."
" No, no," I said. " This is too personal, you know."
I looked at him point blank and I saw a look of sincere and decisive sympathy in his eyes. I never thought a taxi driver or any other man could ever look at me in such a way. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't understand.
"Okay," he said. "If you need help just wave your hand."
"Thank you indeed," I turned and headed to the epicentre of the exultant girlish hubbub.
As I was approaching, it became more obvious to me that the object of their fascinated attention mingled with admiration, that is, the figure in my new black coat, was not exactly a human being: instead of head there was big glans at the point of which there was meatus, operating like a mouth, and tiny piggish eyes painted on the glans.
The girls couldn't stop laughing. They were making selfies with this jerk and giggled at his boisterous bragging.
When I came up to the company, the girls and their idol were so engaged that they didn't even pay me the slightest attention.
Mr. Dick (that's what he really was) was saying " Oh, my lovely ladies, you know, once, when I was crossing The Nile river, I came across a huge crocodile and for the whole week after this meeting I had to tolerate a great pain."
" Oh, you must have been hurt terribly?" One of the girls said. "It must have been a miracle that you stayed alive."
" Oh, who could have doubted?" Mr. Dick answered. "I suffered awfully after I've eaten a great chunk of crocodile meat. It was kinda Syrian war inside my stomach."
The girls burst out laughing.
" Weak stomach, Mr. What's your name?" I addressed Mr. Dick trying to sound sarcastically.
Girls stopped laughing and grudgingly looked at me.
Mr. Dick stretched meatus in a caricature of a smile and said " Sweeties, is this boo-boo your friend?"
"No, never seen him before," the girls answered in chorus.
"Thank God!" Mr. Dick exclaimed. "For a second I was killed at the thought you're acquainted with this ignorant boor! Does he know that before speaking to an unknown person he should greet and introduce himself, eh, marshmallows?"
The girls laughed and answered in one voice " Seems he doesn't!"
"Which means, he is a schmuck, isn't he, eh, butterflies?"
The girls guffawed up to tears.
" My dick is making a clown of me," I thought, clenching my fists.
"Our baboon is pale and very nervous," Mr. Dick went on, " I wonder is he seeking a latrine?" The girls kept on laughing, and I couldn't stand this any more.
I rushed to Mr. Dick and punched him using all my strength.
Mr. Dick fell on the ground, and the girls began screaming like a band of wild cats.
It was very lousy coincidence that a police patrol stopped near the cafe in peaceful intention to have a snack, but on seeing the mess, which my behavior had evoked, they interfered and arrested me deftly but politely.
They bought some hamburgers and cans of cola, pushed me in their car and we drove off.
In the police station I explained to the police officer the reason of my furious assault.
"If it was your car and you suspected that the guy has stolen it why the hell didn't you call the police? There's a free station phone in the cafe, as far as I know. Are you avoiding the communication with police? Look, I have no reason to guess otherwise."
"But there was a reason," I said gloomily.
" What kind of reason?"
"The guy I hit is not a guy, but..." I felt a surge of red and hot to my face and a tough dryness in my mouth, "in fact, the object of my assault was my own penis. In other words it was my own dick who has stolen my car and I punished it."
The officer's face looked like the one of a stone FDR.
His eyes froze, glistening like glass, pupils dilated and he involuntarily recoiled and kept on staring at me in silence for a half of a minute.
At last he took a phone and said " I need experts on cosmic exploration immediately!"
I knew that it was a special code used while dealing with people with mental disorder.
" No, officer, please," I prayed, "I'm not a mad, what I told you is a holy truth."
"Holyshit, you mean? Do you think I'm gonna buy your preposterous story? I give you the last chance to cooperate with the police, got it?"
"Okay, you leave me no choice," I sighed and took off my pants and showed him what was (or rather what there was not) between my legs.
"Oh, my sweet goodness!" the officer exclaimed in shock and disgust. "Get out of here right now! And never get into my sight again!"
He took the phone, cancelled his call, and I put on my pants and left.
As soon as I got out of the police station I heard a car horn. I turned around and saw the taxi and the driver who gestured me to get into the car.
I obeyed, and he said " I saw you being arrested and I followed the police car. I was worrying as to what the outcome was impending, and I'm glad to see you got out of this shit. They got your prints, your name, photograph and all that stuff?"
"No, they didn't do anything like this," I said.
The driver looked at me incredulously. He shrugged and said "That's strange. Cops are supposed to register this crap. They always do."
" You told me the jerk that had stolen my car looked like a dick?"
"That' right," the driver nodded. "Why?"
"The matter is, the jerk not only looked like a dick; it was a real dick, and I should level with you, it was my dick. Somehow it grew bigger than my usual size, but without any doubts it was mine: I saw the bithmark on the glans."
" A birthmark on a glans? Can this be the truth?"
"Yeah, in shape of the crescent," I said.
We kept silent for a minute, the driver tapped his graceful fingers on the steering wheel.
I should have thought "How could it happen that he became a driver with such a girlish fingers?" But I was thinking nothing, being unable to focus on anything concrete.
"Let me be sincere," the driver said slowly," I don't believe your story of a walking penis, and I'm sure nobody would do, but I believe you are a good guy, I like you and I'm going to help you if you don't mind."
" I don't see how you can help me given that you refuse to buy my true story," I said.
"Firstly, let's find your car," he said.
" A needle in the wilderness of sand?" I said in despair.
"Oh," he smiled complacently. "Who do you think you are dealing with? I communicated with my colleagues through the radio and ask them to notify me in case they spot black mercedes with appropriate number, and you know what? They did! Amazing fellows! Now I know exactly where we can find it."
"Where?" I exhaled carefully.
"Half an hour ago, a black mercedes was spotted in front of the club "The True Adult Boy Scouts." It is the outskirts of the city. So we should hurry if we are going to overlap him."
"Okay," I cried out. "Come on!"
After we drove off it crossed my mind that the driver was too caring, and it seemed it was not entirely about money, I felt his sympathy was genuine, and he let me sit beside him, not behind the latticed crevice.
"By the way, what's your name?" I asked.
"Joan," he said.
"I'm John," I smiled, "Not very big difference, isn't it?
"Yeah," he smiled back.
Half an hour later we parked near the two-storey building of red brick. The national banner conspicuously fluttered pinned to the front door, and the nation anthem was floating in the hot air.
"Shoot," Joan exclaimed.
There was no black mercedes in the vicinity of the club.
"We should at least make sure it was here today," I proposed.
"That's right," Joan nodded. "Let's go. Hopely there's someone inside having some information."
We got out of the car and entered the club.
A huge figure clad in khaki blocked our way.
"Password?" he growled lazily shaking his red beard.
" Fight and never give up!" Joan exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"Begone!" The guy shouted waving his uncouth beard.
" Sorry, I forgot," Joan slapped himself on the forehead. " Kill all jerks!"
"Okay, guys," the red beard seemed softened. "But there's nobody here at the moment. You're too late. Where the fuck you been?"
"And where's all the people now"?
" At "Kiddo Majestic" of course, where else they might be?"
"And what's "Kiddo Majestic?"
"What?" The red beard squinted scornfully. "Look, guys, you know password, but you don't look like true boy scouts, or, maybe, you got high?"
"Kind of...yeah, smoked weeds," I answered.
"Hm," the red beard nodded. "My men! Okay, you might have forgotten, but "Kiddo Majestic" is a nearest military base, where we are getting trained."
"I remember! I've been there,"Joan pushed me slightly. " By the way, here was a guy in long black coat, driving a black mercedes, did you see him?"
"Oh, Dick? Fucking guy! Who would have not noticed him?" the red beard exclaimed.
"Where's he now?" I screamed.
"Hey, pal, you are stoned for pleasure, not to be nervous. I just told you all guys are in "Kiddo Majestic" including Dick. He is amazing guy, he made a generous gift, his mercedes, to the club."
"A gift? He presented my mercedes to the club?" I exclaimed. "Do you know he had stolen that car?"
" Yeah, he told us," the red beard looked very proud. " That's why we accepted him in the club unanimously. We don't like wishy-washy chaps, but a guy who stole a mercedes to give to the club, that's our man."
"But there's no car near the club," I tried to calm down and spoke twice as quite.
"Our commander-in-chief drove off to test the car. He is not supposed to return soon. Until he showed off before all his chicks he is not expected to come back. "
"What did the guys go to the military base for?" Joan asked.
" To be recruited to the Army," the red beard expressed surprise. "You guys from the moon, what shit of weeds did you smoke? Do you know that Dick persuaded our guys to go to war, yeah, and all as one decided to become soldiers."
"Fabulous," I hissed and looked at Joan in despair.
"Why didn't you go together with others?" Joan asked the red beard with a tint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Somebody should look after the club," the red beard answered without a twinkle of embarrassment. "We must support our movement, and the club is a holy of holies where the new recruits have their shelter."
Joan spat on the floor and pushed me "Let's go out of here! It stinks."
While the red beard stood with an opened mouth, we slipped out of the club and got into the car.
"So," I said in a sick voice, " seems I have no hope any more. This is the end of me. I wish I were dead."
I felt like sobbings were going to tear me to shreds, and I was taking great pains to suppress them.
" The end, as one wise has said, is always the beginning of something else," Joan said soothingly.
" Something else?" I answered grimly. " What else it can be if not a strange disgusting position of a human being who even doesn't know whether he is a girl or a guy?"
I lowered my eye, and a small photograph caught my sight: a cute girl was depicted on it, and she was as similar to Joan as two drops of water. In fact they couldn't have been distinguished had not the girl on the photo had the long hair.
" Your sister?" I asked. "You have a nice twin."
" No," Joan said and sighed. "It's me."
I stared at him stunned "What do you mean? You kidding? We had not enough fun today?"
"I'm not kidding, John," Joan answered, "and yeah, we had a lot of fun today, and I was a girl from my birth and recently I changed my sex and became a guy, and it seems I..."
"Enough!" I cried out. "I'm going vigorously mad."
"It seems," Joan went on stubbornly, "It seems I love you."
Long silence ensued, I didn't know what to say. I looked at Joan askance, and only then I noticed what exquisite features her face had. Her childish lips were pressed tight. She was beautiful even with short cropped hair.
"What did you do that for?" I asked carefully. "Why did you change your sex?"
" I like driving, and I'm the best taxi driver in the city, but for men it seemed a matter of honour to flirt and pester, telling me all their pick-up things which I regarded as offensive and annoying. And the most humiliating thing was that the employers were paying me seventy two cents assigned for women instead of a dollar assigned for men for the same, if not the better, job."
Tears showed up in her calm green-grey eyes.
"Maybe, we'll go somewhere..." I said touching her slim hand.
"Where?" she asked slowly not removing her hand.
"Where we can find light drinks and not very loud music, so that we would be able to think over what's going on with you and with me."
"Okay," Joan smiled and pressed her lips to my lips. We kissed.
"I think all that going on with us is amazing, " Joan said with sparkling eyes, "and I'm going to discuss it with you for my whole life..."
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						Last edited by Georgy; 03-15-2016 at 04:17 PM.
					
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Old 03-16-2016, 05:05 PM View Post #2 (Link)
Keladry (Offline)
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Hallo!

Not doing the normal line spaces between paragraphs made this take longer than it might have to actually read it (I think I've opened it twice already). But I know your writing, and while I would probably never pick up a book called "Crazy Dick" if it were on the shelf, I'll admit I'm curious.


Originally Posted by Georgy View Post
It was usual Sunday morning, albeit, I was not going to Sunday Church, like many respectable citizens do every Sunday. The wording of your first sentence being rather awkward doesn't help me dive into it, either. The idea of not going to Sunday school isn't especially exciting-- what I am curious about is why the narrator feels they have to tell us that they're not going to Sunday school.Instead, I was going to go to boxing club to beat somebody or to be beaten. Either way, that was going to be a fun.
I got up, yawned with pleasure, and went to the kitchen where I boiled up a cup of coffee, and it crossed my mind that it wouldn't be a bad idea to piss before I inject some liquid in my stomach. Typically I have no problem with crude words in writing, but that social part of my mind is still saying "does he really need to say that?" It ends up feeling like he's almost trying to impress us-- a big, strong boxer who doesn't even go to church and can use whatever language he likes. Especially when he talks about "injecting" liquid-- it's oddly unnatural.
I headed for the toilet, unzipped my pants and...Oh My God! I couldn't find my dick.
Not to say I was unable to find it, that was not exactly the case: to say more strictly, there was no dick where it had been before. It has disappeared, vanished into the thin air. Okay, so this is the only place I would probably actually read something like this. But I'm hiding my face in amusement because this totally twists the meaning of your title. You're not talking about some weird idiot crazy dick. You're talking about an actual dick. Ha.
I rubbed my temples to make sure I wasn't sleeping or to wake up if I was.
But it was not a dream, it was monstrous terrible fantastic reality.
My brow and armpits became wet, drops of cold sweat were rolling down my spine. I was on the point of flaking out.
With dizzy head and shaking hands I examined the floor in my house. There was nothing to be find on the floor, except a couple of used chewing gums.
"Did I really think I could drop my dick on the way to the toilet?" I thought in a panic. "Bullshit, that's impossible! That's not the way things are supposed to happen. But somehow this shit happened: I've lost my dick. Where, how and when exactly I had no idea.
I tried to piss in a sitting position, and that turned out to be not so difficult, though it was such a humiliation. Make sure you close quotation marks when you use them.
I returned to the kitchen and looked sadly at the cup of cold coffee that was patiently waiting for me. But I felt like it was not coffee that I need but a good portion of whiskey without any water and soda. I grabbed a bottle and made a huge convulsive gulp from the bottle.
A surge of sweat attacked my brow immediately, I wiped it by a towel and tried to collect my will and reason together and overcome the sense of panic that seemed to be trying to suffocate me.
Another gulp helped my hands to become more steady, but dizziness in my head remained so far, albeit it was more pleasant than before.
Somehow my brain seemed more clear and set up in a positive pattern, and I began thinking over the problem.
"When it was that I saw my dick last time?" I thought. "Ok, seems, yesterday evening. The more exact time escaped my memory but I was sure enough I had to piss after several cans of beer, and the process was held in an ordinary and very soothing way. Given after this procedure I didn't leave home, it became obvious my dick was not lost, it was stolen. And it was a matter of no doubt that it had been stolen during the night while I was sleeping." Your quotation marks are weird here, too. Does he actually think all that, verbatim, in his head? It reads like you meant some of this to be describing his thoughts, not his actual thoughts.

Also, on the vocabulary here-- words like "inject" and "procedure" and "process" are leading me to think rather scientifically, and I'm wondering if his dick was actually removed somehow...? Normally my gut instinct would be to say it's either magical something (Imagine if Hagrid had done this to Dudley rather than just letting him off with a pig-tail) or else some sort of physical mind problem, hallucination? My head can't relate to this poor guy at all. I almost just want to laugh at him. That would be rude.

Not having desire to waste precious time anymore I rushed to my car.
Whoops! I couldn't find my car on its usual place. Well, now I was a double loser, my dick was stolen, my car was stolen. He can't find his car and he's just lost his dick and for his reaction, he says "whoops!"? Just, no. This poor guy.
It was a proper thing to go to police, wasn't it?
I called a taxi, when it arrived I asked the driver to go to the nearest police station.
"My car was hijacked this night," I said when we drove off. "Black mercedes, classic."
"Black mercedes?" the driver exclaimed. "I spotted one early in the morning..."
"Really?" I shouted. "When? Where?"
"On the crossroads of Kingsville and ... or don't remember, look, there was a huge Macy's ads..."
"Fuck Macy's!" I interrupted vigorously. " In what direction it was moving?"
"It was not moving," the driver looked askance at me. "The car was at a gas station, a station guy was filling it..."
"Damn, who was inside?"
"There was nobody inside," the driver shrugged. " It was standing near the car and chatted with a sexy blond..."
"Wait, what do you mean by saying "it"?"
" I don't really know how to explain," the driver seemed embarrassed. " You won't beleive me, but, listen, at first sight it seemed a usual guy, wearing a long black coat, but after a more focused observation he turned out to have not a head but a dickhead, that is, it was not a guy, it was a dick of huge size." Oh my gosh. This is completely ridiculous. His dick and his car-- goodness, what manliness does the poor boy have left? And of course the driver would take the time to emphasize that not just any dick, of course it was a "dick of huge size" (Which also, by the way, sounds far more scientific than "huge dick"). Which makes it instantly recognizable as his dick, rather than say, some other random person's dick who happened to steal his car.

Is this a dream?

"Oh, my god! My dick has stolen my car!" I couldn't checked eruption out of my breast.
The driver smiled at me and said shaking his head " Oh, dear, if that were your dick, you'd be TV show star without breaking a sweat."
"I'm more likely a star of Horror show at the moment," I exclaimed in despair.
" Calm down, buddy," the driver said. "We're gonna get to the police station in a five minutes."
"Stop!" I screamed. "That's it! My car!"
The taxi stopped, and both of us stared at the black mercedes, parked in front of a little cafe. Near the car I saw a tall figure clad in a black coat surrounded by a flock of girls. Ah, gosh. This is disgusting and sexist and I think I'm not going to try to work out whatever metaphor is here.
"Son of a bitch! My coat!" I gritted my teeth, and clenched my fists.
The guy was telling vigorously while the girls giggled and laughed enthusiastically.
I was going out of the car but the driver caught me up the sleeve.
"Twenty bucks, pal," he said.
I paid out and said to him " Please, wait for me, I have something to do here. It won't take long."
" Okay," the driver nodded. "You're honest with me, I'm honest with you. You sure you can handle this alone? Just for such shitty cases I have a gun."
" No, no," I said. " This is too personal, you know."
I looked at him point blank and I saw a look of sincere and decisive sympathy in his eyes. I never thought a taxi driver or any other man could ever look at me in such a way. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't understand.
"Okay," he said. "If you need help just wave your hand."
"Thank you indeed," I turned and headed to the epicentre of the exultant girlish hubbub. What even is this? Completely impossible to take with even the slightest bit of seriousness, that's what it is. The fancy words are horrible.
As I was approaching, it became more obvious to me that the object of their fascinated attention mingled with admiration, that is, the figure in my new black coat, was not exactly a human being: instead of head there was big glans at the point of which there was meatus, operating like a mouth, and tiny piggish eyes painted on the glans. Yep, I'm totally lost. But I totally don't care because it so obviously doesn't matter what you're even saying.
The girls couldn't stop laughing. They were making selfies with this jerk and giggled at his boisterous bragging. Side note, I do actually like the phrase "boisterous bragging." I don't know how a dick can talk, but of course if it did, it would talk boisterously.
When I came up to the company, the girls and their idol were so engaged that they didn't even pay me the slightest attention.
Mr. Dick (that's what he really was) Oho, he's actually a Mr. now! was saying " Oh, my lovely ladies, you know, once, when I was crossing The Nile river, I came across a huge crocodile and for the whole week after this meeting I had to tolerate a great pain."
" Oh, you must have been hurt terribly?" One of the girls said. "It must have been a miracle that you stayed alive." These girls need names. Or descriptions. Or anything at all. What even is this story.
" Oh, who could have doubted?" Mr. Dick answered. "I suffered awfully after I've eaten a great chunk of crocodile meat. It was kinda Syrian war inside my stomach."
The girls burst out laughing.
" Weak stomach, Mr. What's your name?" I addressed Mr. Dick trying to sound sarcastically.
Girls stopped laughing and grudgingly looked at me.
Mr. Dick stretched meatus in a caricature of a smile and said " Sweeties, is this boo-boo your friend?"
"No, never seen him before," the girls answered in chorus.
"Thank God!" Mr. Dick exclaimed. "For a second I was killed at the thought you're acquainted with this ignorant boor! Does he know that before speaking to an unknown person he should greet and introduce himself, eh, marshmallows?"
The girls laughed and answered in one voice " Seems he doesn't!"
"Which means, he is a schmuck, isn't he, eh, butterflies?"
The girls guffawed up to tears.
" My dick is making a clown of me," I thought, clenching my fists.
"Our baboon is pale and very nervous," Mr. Dick went on, " I wonder is he seeking a latrine?" The girls kept on laughing, and I couldn't stand this any more.
I rushed to Mr. Dick and punched him using all my strength.
Mr. Dick fell on the ground, and the girls began screaming like a band of wild cats.
It was very lousy coincidence that a police patrol stopped near the cafe in peaceful intention to have a snack, but on seeing the mess, which my behavior had evoked, they interfered and arrested me deftly but politely.
They bought some hamburgers and cans of cola, pushed me in their car and we drove off.
In the police station I explained to the police officer the reason of my furious assault.
"If it was your car and you suspected that the guy has stolen it why the hell didn't you call the police? There's a free station phone in the cafe, as far as I know. Are you avoiding the communication with police? Look, I have no reason to guess otherwise."
"But there was a reason," I said gloomily.
" What kind of reason?"
"The guy I hit is not a guy, but..." I felt a surge of red and hot to my face and a tough dryness in my mouth, "in fact, the object of my assault was my own penis. In other words it was my own dick who has stolen my car and I punished it."
The officer's face looked like the one of a stone FDR.
His eyes froze, glistening like glass, pupils dilated and he involuntarily recoiled and kept on staring at me in silence for a half of a minute.
At last he took a phone and said " I need experts on cosmic exploration immediately!"
I knew that it was a special code used while dealing with people with mental disorder.
" No, officer, please," I prayed, "I'm not a mad, what I told you is a holy truth."
"Holyshit, you mean? Do you think I'm gonna buy your preposterous story? I give you the last chance to cooperate with the police, got it?"
"Okay, you leave me no choice," I sighed and took off my pants and showed him what was (or rather what there was not) between my legs.
"Oh, my sweet goodness!" the officer exclaimed in shock and disgust. "Get out of here right now! And never get into my sight again!" Why am I reading this? I don't even know.
He took the phone, cancelled his call, and I put on my pants and left.
As soon as I got out of the police station I heard a car horn. I turned around and saw the taxi and the driver who gestured me to get into the car.
I obeyed, and he said " I saw you being arrested and I followed the police car. I was worrying as to what the outcome was impending, and I'm glad to see you got out of this shit. They got your prints, your name, photograph and all that stuff?"
"No, they didn't do anything like this," I said.
The driver looked at me incredulously. He shrugged and said "That's strange. Cops are supposed to register this crap. They always do."
" You told me the jerk that had stolen my car looked like a dick?"
"That' right," the driver nodded. "Why?"
"The matter is, the jerk not only looked like a dick; it was a real dick, and I should level with you, it was my dick. Somehow it grew bigger than my usual size, but without any doubts it was mine: I saw the bithmark on the glans."
" A birthmark on a glans? Can this be the truth?"
"Yeah, in shape of the crescent," I said.
We kept silent for a minute, the driver tapped his graceful fingers on the steering wheel.
I should have thought "How could it happen that he became a driver with such a girlish fingers?" But I was thinking nothing, being unable to focus on anything concrete.
"Let me be sincere," the driver said slowly," I don't believe your story of a walking penis, and I'm sure nobody would do, but I believe you are a good guy, I like you and I'm going to help you if you don't mind."
" I don't see how you can help me given that you refuse to buy my true story," I said.
"Firstly, let's find your car," he said.
" A needle in the wilderness of sand?" I said in despair.
"Oh," he smiled complacently. "Who do you think you are dealing with? I communicated with my colleagues through the radio and ask them to notify me in case they spot black mercedes with appropriate number, and you know what? They did! Amazing fellows! Now I know exactly where we can find it."
"Where?" I exhaled carefully.
"Half an hour ago, a black mercedes was spotted in front of the club "The True Adult Boy Scouts." It is the outskirts of the city. So we should hurry if we are going to overlap him."
"Okay," I cried out. "Come on!"
After we drove off it crossed my mind that the driver was too caring, and it seemed it was not entirely about money, I felt his sympathy was genuine, and he let me sit beside him, not behind the latticed crevice.
"By the way, what's your name?" I asked.
"Joan," he said.
"I'm John," I smiled, "Not very big difference, isn't it?
"Yeah," he smiled back.
Half an hour later we parked near the two-storey building of red brick. The national banner conspicuously fluttered pinned to the front door, and the nation anthem was floating in the hot air.
"Shoot," Joan exclaimed.
There was no black mercedes in the vicinity of the club.
"We should at least make sure it was here today," I proposed.
"That's right," Joan nodded. "Let's go. Hopely there's someone inside having some information."
We got out of the car and entered the club.
A huge figure clad in khaki blocked our way.
"Password?" he growled lazily shaking his red beard.
" Fight and never give up!" Joan exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"Begone!" The guy shouted waving his uncouth beard.
" Sorry, I forgot," Joan slapped himself on the forehead. " Kill all jerks!"
"Okay, guys," the red beard seemed softened. "But there's nobody here at the moment. You're too late. Where the fuck you been?"
"And where's all the people now"?
" At "Kiddo Majestic" of course, where else they might be?"
"And what's "Kiddo Majestic?"
"What?" The red beard squinted scornfully. "Look, guys, you know password, but you don't look like true boy scouts, or, maybe, you got high?"
"Kind of...yeah, smoked weeds," I answered.
"Hm," the red beard nodded. "My men! Okay, you might have forgotten, but "Kiddo Majestic" is a nearest military base, where we are getting trained."
"I remember! I've been there,"Joan pushed me slightly. " By the way, here was a guy in long black coat, driving a black mercedes, did you see him?"
"Oh, Dick? Fucking guy! Who would have not noticed him?" the red beard exclaimed.
"Where's he now?" I screamed.
"Hey, pal, you are stoned for pleasure, not to be nervous. I just told you all guys are in "Kiddo Majestic" including Dick. He is amazing guy, he made a generous gift, his mercedes, to the club."
"A gift? He presented my mercedes to the club?" I exclaimed. "Do you know he had stolen that car?"
" Yeah, he told us," the red beard looked very proud. " That's why we accepted him in the club unanimously. We don't like wishy-washy chaps, but a guy who stole a mercedes to give to the club, that's our man."
"But there's no car near the club," I tried to calm down and spoke twice as quite.
"Our commander-in-chief drove off to test the car. He is not supposed to return soon. Until he showed off before all his chicks he is not expected to come back. "
"What did the guys go to the military base for?" Joan asked.
" To be recruited to the Army," the red beard expressed surprise. "You guys from the moon, what shit of weeds did you smoke? Do you know that Dick persuaded our guys to go to war, yeah, and all as one decided to become soldiers."
"Fabulous," I hissed and looked at Joan in despair.
"Why didn't you go together with others?" Joan asked the red beard with a tint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Somebody should look after the club," the red beard answered without a twinkle of embarrassment. "We must support our movement, and the club is a holy of holies where the new recruits have their shelter."
Joan spat on the floor and pushed me "Let's go out of here! It stinks."
While the red beard stood with an opened mouth, we slipped out of the club and got into the car.
"So," I said in a sick voice, " seems I have no hope any more. This is the end of me. I wish I were dead."
I felt like sobbings were going to tear me to shreds, and I was taking great pains to suppress them.
" The end, as one wise has said, is always the beginning of something else," Joan said soothingly.
" Something else?" I answered grimly. " What else it can be if not a strange disgusting position of a human being who even doesn't know whether he is a girl or a guy?"
I lowered my eye, and a small photograph caught my sight: a cute girl was depicted on it, and she was as similar to Joan as two drops of water. In fact they couldn't have been distinguished had not the girl on the photo had the long hair.
" Your sister?" I asked. "You have a nice twin."
" No," Joan said and sighed. "It's me."
I stared at him stunned "What do you mean? You kidding? We had not enough fun today?"
"I'm not kidding, John," Joan answered, "and yeah, we had a lot of fun today, and I was a girl from my birth and recently I changed my sex and became a guy, and it seems I..."
"Enough!" I cried out. "I'm going vigorously mad."
"It seems," Joan went on stubbornly, "It seems I love you."
Long silence ensued, I didn't know what to say. I looked at Joan askance, and only then I noticed what exquisite features her face had. Her childish lips were pressed tight. She was beautiful even with short cropped hair.
"What did you do that for?" I asked carefully. "Why did you change your sex?"
" I like driving, and I'm the best taxi driver in the city, but for men it seemed a matter of honour to flirt and pester, telling me all their pick-up things which I regarded as offensive and annoying. And the most humiliating thing was that the employers were paying me seventy two cents assigned for women instead of a dollar assigned for men for the same, if not the better, job."
Tears showed up in her calm green-grey eyes.
"Maybe, we'll go somewhere..." I said touching her slim hand.
"Where?" she asked slowly not removing her hand.
"Where we can find light drinks and not very loud music, so that we would be able to think over what's going on with you and with me."
"Okay," Joan smiled and pressed her lips to my lips. We kissed.
"I think all that going on with us is amazing, " Joan said with sparkling eyes, "and I'm going to discuss it with you for my whole life..."
I'm not even sure how I'm expected to respond to this? The entire thing is so clearly designed to be so horribly offensive there's nothing to do but laugh. Which is sad. I haven't a clue how to critique it-- I guess that's why it's in experimental. So, yeah. I guess we don't know or care whether he actually ever got his dick back.

What was your intended purpose for writing this? Did you have an audience in mind?
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Old 03-29-2016, 12:21 PM View Post #3 (Link)
Abhiram Ramachandran (Offline)
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Hello There! Please write stories that are good. Stories can be a drama with a dash of comedy and a twist in the end. It can either be of teenage romance like the book "The fault in our stars" or be a detective story like the "The Sherlock Holmes".

I am sorry if I am being harsh but please do a nice story!!

You might be thinking that I am a literary Genius but I am not one! I am just a simple teenager who does these experimental write ups about Products, Social issues, and Current Affair.

I am eagerly expecting your next Story

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Old 04-22-2016, 05:18 PM View Post #4 (Link)
pendell (Offline)
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Originally Posted by Abhiram Ramachandran View Post
Hello There! Please write stories that are good. Stories can be a drama with a dash of comedy and a twist in the end. It can either be of teenage romance like the book "The fault in our stars" or be a detective story like the "The Sherlock Holmes".

I am sorry if I am being harsh but please do a nice story!!

You might be thinking that I am a literary Genius but I am not one! I am just a simple teenager who does these experimental write ups about Products, Social issues, and Current Affair.

I am eagerly expecting your next Story

What was that? I would've critiqued the story, but I think I need to critique your comment! First of all, could you please state what made the story "not good" in your eyes? You don't just say "Please write stories that are good" unless you want to be a jerk.

Good stories can be many things, why did you have to give such narrow examples? Do you think the writer does not know what stories can be or something? Are these kinds of stories your personal favorites? And seriously? The Fault in our Stars?

You aren't being harsh, you're just making no sense.

No, I don't think anyone would assume that you were a literary genius from reading this post. And whats a write-up?

Also, I love the random capitalization.
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Old 04-22-2016, 05:57 PM View Post #5 (Link)
DestinyVamp (Offline)
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Pendell, I know what he said was wrong but he is an Indian, such stuff is not common in there. It's new and offensive for him that is why.
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