The following is an open letter from "George", my benign lipoma, whom is to be forcibly removed from my face in nine days.
Please help me. I have a growing suspicion that this bastard, in which I reside, is planning some diabolical scheme to end my existence. I don't really understand where all this hostility is coming from. It is not like I am causing any discomfort or distress. I just sit here on his jaw peacefully, biding my time. Oh sure, he claims I am to blame for his declining aesthetic appearance, but I would like to point out the facts. If I were gone, it is not like the ladies are just going to start racing over. I mean some dieting and a wardrobe change would go a lot further than my removal.
I implore you, the readers of his meager attempts at humor, to speak out on my behalf. I have the same dreams as many of you. I aspire to someday become a full blown goiter, or maybe even make the transition to a malignant tumor and take over this son of a bitch.
The years of oppressive rule by Killer must come to an end. Under his 33 long years as leader of this body there has been massive growth, too much some would say. Over population in the abdominal area is at obscene levels. There are numerous reports that the brain, a once proud and noble center for learning, has been reduced to a constant frat party, only satisfied with ceaseless supplies of beer and porn. Although I fear for my own life, it is time that someone in here takes a stand. I had been hoping the heart would speak up, but it appears that years of rich foods and comfortable living have corrupted his values and made him a hollow puppet under Killer's control.
Other tyrannical leaders over the years have sought, and often succeeded, in silencing their critics. Don't be fooled by the humor and fun-loving persona displayed by this devil in disguise. Some years back the wisdom teeth wrote a scathing article about his oral hygiene, within a few days they disappeared and have never been seen nor heard from since.
If something does indeed happen, please do not let this cause die with me. I will raise the flag for revolution and if I get shot down, I can only hope someone else will scoop it up and fight on. If my demise can create a martyr for future generations then I give myself willingly.
Fight the good fight comrades.
4 comments:
A talking cyst kind of gives me the willies. Hurry up and snuff George. He's too powerful.
Don't be crazy Liz. A cyst can't talk. He wrote it in a letter.
Perhaps George would have done well to join forces with the wisdom teeth.
You guys are hilarious.
Post a Comment