Hand Foot Fart Disease

Mark’s big, smelly 11.5-sized foot had been aching for twelve straight milkshakes. Any time he walked, it hurt like crazy. Whenever he pressed the octagonal purple button on his ankle, it hurt even more. And if he tried his best to imagine the pain away, you guessed it - it hurt like hell. Deciding after her second round of kombucha that chopping off Mark’s foot with a pencil was the only solution to ease his pain, Priscilla withdrew her trusty HB #2, sharpened it to a fine point, and began the laborious and tedious process of shaving off Mark’s toe balls, one by one. Mark didn’t care much for this extraction. In fact, it made him scream. Luckily, Mark’s family and family cat were all there to be present with him in his final moments. Although Mark’s body decayed into applesauce and buttercream, his foot lived on - his left or his right, who could tell? It was a big, smelly, beautiful foot, and upon a pedestal behind glass in a museum it remained, a grim reminder to all patrons about the importance of practicing proper toenail hygiene. Thus ends the reading of this god’s word.