Our hero made his way back to the city in this hot, confused state. He caught a glimpse of a lovely woman walking out at night and moved toward her so that she might help him relieve his intense heat.
Unfortunately, having pinned her to the ground, he found a member of his was hidden in a stump of flesh. He scratched, bit at where his manhood should have been, but it would not come out. He whined.
The woman owned a dam. This loyal dam, though frightened, barked at our hero in hopes she could successfully intimidate him. At this bitch our hero’s manhood presented itself.
Fortunately for our hero, soldiers arrived to stop him before he committed to the act. Unfortunately, they took out their hammers. The woman, feeling pity for our hero, invented the lie that this very ugly, very fat dog was hers and he became far too excited for his own good. Disappointed they were unable to sup on dog that afternoon, the soldiers dispersed.
The woman, despite her act of mercy, was understandably upset. She passed our hero over to her grandmother, who was lonely in her advanced years and required a companion for her failing eyesight.
The grandmother was the kindest woman in the city; for the act of relieving himself on her carpet, she merely had him beaten. However, she had the unusual habit every evening of sitting down on her favorite chair, removing her dress, and smearing her groin with peanut butter. In this state our hero loved peanut butter, and thus licked every inch of it off the grandmother. This perhaps was our hero’s worst experience in the new world thus far.
Yet these incidents did not diminish his enjoyment for life, and indeed he considered this a good life. He did not do much thinking and little expectations were burdened on him. He was learning how to relieve himself properly. The only blemish, beside the grandmother’s unusual habit, was the mailman. Though he frequently had no mail to deliver – indeed, the grandmother’s children never wrote her – he came by, beat our hero, and then went to have his fun with the neighbor’s wife. Once he tried to poke out one of our hero’s eyes with a knife. Our hero did not mind losing control of his intelligence nor his agency, but he minded his anger.
The mailman stopped by, intending to take our hero’s eyes truly. The neighbor’s wife recently refused him his fun, as a result of being beaten black and blue for it, and he sought to satisfy himself in other ways.
As he grabbed the door’s handle, our hero leapt and bit him on the wrist, such that his teeth met. This morning our hero whined to the grandmother, so she left the door slightly ajar.
The mailman dropped the knife, as our hero bit his stabbing hand. Our hero clenched the knife between his jaws and cut one of the mailman’s eyes. This set the mailman running.
He cried for help, anyone’s help. A muscled individual approached him. He did not recognize him as the husband of the neighbor’s wife.
The muscled man held the mailman down as our hero ravaged his face, until he was finally unrecognizable. The muscled man and our hero high-fived.
He saw the woman he had attacked, the granddaughter of the grandmother.
The woman stepped back, covered her mouth to scream, and held her skirt down. To our hero’s surprise, however, she moved closer to him, pet him, and then, with face flushed, began kissing him ear to ear. Clearly he had made an impression on her.
The healer collared our hero. To restore our hero’s condition, a certain potion would have to be administered through a catheter.
© 2025 François-Marie Lee