Eggs
It's no joke, my wife has been laying eggs like a hen, there's
about a hundred of them scattered all through the house.
She must have some woman's problem.
- Don't walk on them Tim!
- No, well it's a bit hard not to trip over them!
Yeh well it's hard to avoid them, they're quite a collection.
- What are you going to do with them, make a hundred
omlettes?
- I've got something in mind, don't you worry about that Tim.
The eggs have hatched, little men have come out of their
cracked shells, and they all look like me.
- How come they look like me? Did you rob my sperm while
I was sleeping?
- Don't worry about that Tim, they're just better versions of you.
- They're going to be hard to feed.
- I'll figure something out.
My wife sat her brood of little men in front on the television,
in the living room while we went to bed.
I wake-up in the early morning and can't move. I see all the
little men, all the replicas of me, climbing over me with string,
they've tied me up. They're starting to eat me!
- Help! Help!
- Shut-up Tim! My little men need some nourishment!
Each day the little men in my wife's haram grow bigger
and bigger, as they eat more and more of me.
I yell out to my wife...
- Don't you love me anymore?
- Don't you worry about that!
© Copyright 2018 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.
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