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The Political Issue
Vol. 4 Issue 2
Should've Stayed in Bed
by Matt Digby
A more bizarre unfolding I could not possible have fancied delivering to you
secure folk. As I pried my eyelids apart this past dawning, my sheltered orbs fell upon my
mother sprawled on the floor in the hall draped in nothing but the "Number One
Mom!" apron Sarah had bestowed upon her last Christmas. As she writhed and giggled I
comprehended my Ginko Tree gravely attempting to wriggle itself free from beneath the
asphyxiating mounds and folds and undulations. As I cautiously reconnoitered the eyesore I
glimpsed the shadow of a shameless man with a proboscis worthy of the Colossus at Rhodes.
Having never been formerly introduced to the alien member I quickly propulsed my hand and
latched on to the magnificently-tissued pumper of life. After several firm shakes the man
offered me some hand cream which I gladly accepted due to the bitter wind blowing in from
the basement. I elegantly mentioned that Crepes - Suzette and Papa's stir-fried venison
and leeks were awaiting in the breakfast nook. It was then that I noticed the
diamond-studded choker about his frail neck. A well-endowed modest man Mother decided to
Greco-Roman last night.. He sniggered as he commented on how the crepes resembled the best
part of a woman. I lightly replied that they were the hue of Mother's lips after she had
brought the Four Horsemen to bear against the stalwart might of a bag of lemon balls.
Perhaps pondering this jovial image facilitated the fist being undetected by my
ill-trained radar. The ruby-laden knuckle removed a portion of my left cheek and my
features cried blood as I fell beside my hysterical matron. She trashed and kicked, purple
foam extending. . .