Written by Kaleia Hills for the game Fire Starter, Writing Prompt #13

 

The bite in his tongue was deep and bloodied and so was his pride. The doctor stared at those deep teeth marks for five whole minutes without saying one word. The silence was unbearable and Johnny’s mouth hurt.

Finally the doctor stood up and pushed his glasses back against his brow. “You say this was a making-out injury?”

Johnny nodded. It was embarrassing. He’d been seeing Rainy for three months. Rainy was cute. A klutz really. But if you’re going to be a klutz you might as well be a cute one. She was always tripping over things. Herself actually. Her feet were an amazingly large size for her height. She would trip over them and then she’d get up and release the worlds most adorable giggle. She was always knocking things over too. Rainy didn’t know where her body ended and the rest of the world started. But she was captivating.

They’d been taking the relationship slow which meant no making-out. Just pecks. It’s hard to screw those up. Finally though, they decided to take a step further in their relationship and make out with tongues. To Rainy this meant teeth too.

The doctor shook his head. “I wish she’d given you an STI. Herpes would be better than this.” The doctor scratched his head walked the length of the room then came back. “What I’m trying to say is that your tongue’s a goner. We’re going to have to cut it off.”

Johnny gasped trying to keep the tears in.

“It’s okay,” said the doctor, “We’ll give you one of those things Stephen Hawking had. You’ll sound like Stephen Hawking! And be a great chemist like Stephen Hawking!”

“Stephen Hawking was a physicist,” Johnny corrected, but it sounded more like, “Hu-uh Ha-hu huu hu hi-hu-hù.”

The blank look on the doctor’s face showed he hadn’t understood. “Or you could imagine you’re the little mermaid trying to win Erik’s heart… or a new girlfriend’s heart. Relationship advice: break up with the one that decapitated your tongue. Oh, by the way, Stephen Hawking was a great catch. Had a lot of wives. I’m pretty sure it was the voice.”

“Is there not any other way?” or “Hu hu ho hu-hu hu-he hay.” Johnny was grasping at straws. He didn’t want to sound like Stephen Hawking.

The doctor gestured to his assistant, “Scissors please.”