The weakest link

His gut told him that now was the right time to go and lay that cable he’d been keeping back for so long, and he did so with great satisfaction, finally completing the circuit between his massive plasma television and the expensive new Bang and Olufsen sound system, the quality of the latter almost totally wasted by his failure to pay up for high quality cable jacks.

Calving out a niche

He had ravenously sunk his gnashers into the raw, sun-warmed meat having barely looked at it and knowing that it was likely to have patches of rot in it. Sure enough, after one rather tasty mouthful, he bit into another part and immediately blanched as rancid juices diffused into his mouth. He had told himself that he would overpower his gag reflex through force of will, but the actual taste was truly shocking, and no sooner had a little of the green foulness seeped onto the back of his tongue than his body took charge, squeezing his stomach upward and hurling forth everything he had consumed in the last two hours, including, of course, the foot that he had sawn and ripped from the putrescent calf that he now held in his quivering hands.

Like the deserts

“Oh darling,” she said. “I can hardly imagine all the beastly things you’ve seen and what you’ve suffered. You know I missed you terribly. And every night in bed, I thought of where you might be, what you w-” “GAAA! Aaahhhhhhhh.” A pocket of air trapped in his belly had noisily escaped its hiding place, hurtled through his oesophagus and wafted forth into her face, aided by his very deliberate and smug blowing, the smell making her blanche and instructing her that though she had forgotten about these vulgar habits in his absence, he was back now to remind her with aplomb and to show her a few new ones too.

Gripping shafts and taking names

She tightened her oily grip, but a different, more satiny unction suddenly spilled from the opening and coursed down the gleaming, solid shaft she’d been frantically working on. She stood up in surprise and banged her head on the raised bonnet, cursing and then jumping back, alarmed, as it slammed down on where she’d been just a moment ago.

Rotten luck

She had waited so long for this moment. Finally, her first kiss! Her eyes closed as his face approached hers. But suddenly she realised that time travel wasn’t all fun. This was the seventh century and there was no toothpaste nor any real understanding of dental care. Not only did he have visibly bleeding gums, but he also had a gap at the front where a tooth had fallen out in the last day or two, and it appeared to have done so because the gum was simply rotting away. Furthermore, the gap was apparently a suitable nesting-place for some awful-looking meat residue mixed with the pasty remainder of nuts, oats and what looked like bird food. All in all, she was sorry to be downwind of him, or indeed anywhere near him, and a kiss was now out of the question. Well, it was according to her. But now he grabbed her, pulling her to him and trying to take what he wanted by force. His only mistake was to exhale as he approached, intensifying her disgust beyond what she could bear and prompting her to vomit copiously into his ruggedly handsome face, knee him viciously in his no doubt poorly-washed crackers and sprint back to the phonebox.

Double take

He stood and chatted with her as she casually chopped out a line and rolled up a twenty. As she bent down to get it up her beak, he lifted a leg and guffed right at her, knowing that she wouldn’t refrain from sniffing – several times, indeed – and thus, albeit inadvertently, would dutifully hoof up all the feculent gas of which his disastrous colon was so keen to be rid.