Fistful of Likes

David Anderson always knew in his heart this day would come. He tried for so long to deny it, but after this day he never would again. Because today, David…

HAD RUN OUT OF LIKES

In a frantic, desperate effort to stave off the inevitable, he took himself to the doctor’s office. The doctor told him, “Mr. Anderson, there’s no way to fix your thumbs. Your likes’ pool cannot be refilled.”

David, distraught, barked back at him, “No, doctor! There has to be a way!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but there is no physical way to repair them! You knew this would happen, and you kept liking things anyway!”

Heartbroken, David went to sit down on that weird bed thing that doctors have. Dr. Kang looked upon him with pity as he started to weep uncontrollably.

After a time, and against his better judgment, the doctor decided to tell him, “Well… there is one possibility of recovery, but this conversation never leaves this room.”

David’s eyes snapped back to the doctor in a flash. He looked at the doctor through a river of tears; his face covered with mucus and shouted, “YES, I’LL DO ANYTHING!!”

“You must sacrifice your firstborn son in a gruesome ritual on the solstice.”

David’s chest was ripped in half with pain and grief. No matter what he did, he would lose something precious to him, but there wasn’t even a decision to make. He knew he had to feed his addiction, and he would do whatever it took.

“Okay, doctor. I’ll do it.”

With a grim look, the doctor said back to him, “I’ll get the preparations done. Luckily, the solstice is in three days. Meet me out back in the alley behind the Burrito Shed on Third Street at midnight.”

David brought his son to the Burrito Shed as he was asked. He set his son down in the restaurant and went out back to greet the doctor before the big event. The doctor stood there with his thumb in the air while giving David the most uncomfortable stare.

An instant later, several niggers armed with pipes came out of the darkness and started hitting David’s hands. They were forcibly correcting his fingers positions with large, imprecise attacks. After several strikes, his thumb was fixed in such a way so that he could like everything he saw.

The doctor turned to his henchmen, “Where is the boy?”

The niggers looked around, but saw no young man. David, now ecstatic, ran off into the town to thumb everything in sight.

The niggers went into the Burrito Shed to look for the boy. They found him, but it wasn’t what they expected.

DAVID’S SON HAD BECOME A MEXICAN

“Well shieeet. He ain’t worth nothin’ now.”

The niggers got into the doctor’s Cadillac and drove back to the crack house.

the end

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