y’all hear about Fletcher?
Bright asks the circle of smiles
of course, we’ve heard,
it’s all anyone’s been talking about.
for Fletcher, he was simply a victim
of the wrong time, wrong place syndrome.
the wrong time being
when Bennie Lee got home from work.
the wrong place being
between the legs of Bennie Lee’s wife.
Jesus fucking Christ, man
how bad does Bennie Lee gotta be
to hold Fletcher down,
one handed, while his own wife
waffles his head with an alarm clock,
and lop off Fletcher’s nuts
with a straight razor?
Maybe not too bad a motherfucker,
we all knew Fletcher growing up.
he always felt more comfortable
playing house with the girls
than rough-housing with the fellas.
never-the-less, Bright says,
twenty guys couldn’t hold me down
long enough to cut off my balls.
anyone wanted your balls, Bright,
all they gotta do
is go digging in your wife’s purse.
seriously, though, think about it
Bennie Lee kicks the door in,
Fletcher must’ve gave up right there,
rolled over like a little puppy dog
and begged for mercy.
Mikey wonders aloud
what do you guess Fletcher
said to his wife
coming home minus his testicles?
I wouldn’t say a fucking thing.
I’d put two baseballs
inside a Crown Royal pouch
and staple it below my rod.
long as I keep the lights off
the wife’ll never be able
to tell the difference.
now I’m not up on medical science,
Mikey says, but couldn’t
the doctors reattach his testicles?
Bright shook his head, no dude,
by the time the cops killed
Bennie Lee’s doberman
and the doctors opened up its stomach
there wasn’t much left of
Fletcher’s balls to work with.