Our Vivisection of Reverend I. Pimpernel

Maybe it was First Person, or Second. They will decide, in afterword.

It started with one toenail. I thought it was fine as is; but You, you painted it. As if we had something to hide! So, I cut it to the quick. It grew back, in-grown, and somebody suggested the whole thing had to go...

Gangrene set in, and crept up to the knee. I confess only I was brave enough for operation, which had become so necessary, so vital. You wailed and cried: "Woe is Me." So it was, this tussle with Flesh and Philosophy. Wouldn't it have been better to just let go? Wiggle the hip as with the Nature of it, a little bit... But you, you said, NO. And I suffered it. Cornered, quarentined, alone. No one came out. No one went in. A stalemate, so I suggested perhaps it would be best to _____?

Seperate! Oh no, that you could not tolerate. Even with sharpest skapel, you could not even speculate the pain and mental cruelty it would precipitate. But I, I was clinical. No need to be cynical, said I with antiseptic smile, as I mediated on our belly button after a while. But you, on the other hand, could not endure the silence that should follow, and began to growl and holler. Alas, you were never good with your hands.

So I did us both a favor. I said Tripe is a flavor we both could savor, and I stuffed your face. Yet, you as consumate ingrate began to regurgitate the indulgence, and further try our patience.

Then I knew, there was truly no love or gratitude in these heart valves, and we would need to further amputate here and there. With my PhD, I took the opportunity to practice what I preach, and undertook drastic proactive measures for mutual preventive care. It is understood of course that I speak of mental health affairs. I took a stint and sutured as best I could, as you wiggled and spewed, for our bad blood continued to seep and stew. What could I do? Society being in chronic disarray. I knew we must be perfected; Aye, us, too.

It is why I, fortuitously, had undertaken transcendental meditation--aiming to be in subconscious and conscious assimulation with the articulation of the entire atmosphere. Yet always you saw it fit to interupt us in the midst, advancing yourself with a myriad of thoughts, completely out of place. Asked for peace, you refused to see yourself as anything but part and parcel, and mouthed off in a most profane way. I used the needle and stitched these blubbering lips, though in your eyes I could still see a hatred looking back at me, our protector and defender in this most trying time of need. I thought it best, in an extemporaneous way, to lobotomize and isolate what was left. Though I could no longer see, I could still smell your unrelenting fear and disbelief. In the end, I was pleased to exhale one last perfect breath.

01.15.2023

R.I.P. Challenge @Prose