Wordsmoker

Inspiration can strike us at any time. Sometimes when we’re crossing the street. Sometimes when looking at a pigeon who reminds us of a past sexual partner. Sometimes when we ingest handfuls of hallucinogenic drugs we found in a bag next to some railroad tracks. And sometimes all it takes is a Caption This competition on a strange webzone site that involves a Wookie supporting libertarian Fraggle Ron Paul. BeRightBack’s comment on the Caption This – Wookie Vote Special is probably one of the latter, and is worth highlighting here after this word.

It was a shock, at first, when he realized that the old wives’ tale about masturbation and hairy palms was actually true. But he could only resist for so long, and soon, he began to derive a sort of perverse pleasure as he realized that the hair was spreading, first to his wrists, and then up his arms, down his back, across his chest. He remembered, as if it was years ago instead just last month (well, two months ago, he guesses, now that he thinks about it), looking in the mirror and deciding not to shave, to let the inevitable just happen. He remembers putting down the razor and moving his hand between his legs and imagining, right before his semen matted his hair yet again, that he could actually see the new hair as it grew, crowding his beady eyes and closing the gap between his cheekbones and what used to be his “hairline.” He remembers when he said goodbye to his humanity and went to his first Ron Paul For President meeting, the relief that came when he recognized the furtive sideways glances, the nervous laughs, the raw skin that came from obsessive shaving all over one’s body to hide the truth. And he remembers the wet-eyed admiration they paid him, this incarnation of what they were afraid to admit they all secretly were, the proud masturbator whose hairy palms had taken over his body and made him into a shaggy rug that refused to be tread upon anymore. No more! He let out a guttural yawp/growl, and it was soon taken up by all the others in the room, some of whom had shed their shame and pasty-skinned humanity and had began to masturbate right then and there, hair bursting forth from their raw, razor-rubbed bodies like thousands of simultaneous ejaculations solidifying immediately into masses of brown curls. It was time to take the movement to the streets.