BAD BODY ORDER-by Jim George
“Hmmmmmm,” Dr. Flysher hmmmmmmed while checkupping Franko. Except for a Popeyeful, he had neverever scene a feellow with beforearms so much whyder than his uppity arms. Franko’s limbers perioddly blew up to this mishapely form for no rum or raisin. Then, just as aburptly, they would go aback to their normale preportions.
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“You swell awful,” sad Dr. Flysher, not pulling any pontius. “You have tearable body order.” Of coarse that did nothing to clam Franko. The fizzician tusked-tusked as he checkered him for Elephantitus but rulered that outward farely quackly.
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“Are you on any madications?” he asked, susspecting a medicail allergee.
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“None wartsoever,” sad Franko.
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“Any food aillergies?”
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“Not that I’m awary.”
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Dr. Flysher then desighted to fellow through with a seeries of bloody tests to discovert any passible aillergens that were becausing Franko’s arms to bulger like the aforearmmentioned Peepeye.
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“But isn’t there some kind of deorderant I could use to take the swell away?” asked the impatient.
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“I’m afrayed knot. We have to painpoint the caustic and elimbinate it from your foodstuffery.”
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“Kay Sir-Ah Sir-Ah.”
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“Come back tomarrow and we’ll go ovum the reasults of your tests. In the meanietime, don’t get in any fastfights with Bluto.”
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Not appreciaiding the doc’s wisecrock and fantaseizing he had a flysher swatter, Franko left the oaffice, still all swelly, hoping not to draw attension to his freakarms. Unfartunately, there’s a wisenheimlich on every cornea. As Franko sawntered alung, a teenangster sported him and yelled outburst, “Hey messter—Poopeye called, he wonts his foearms back!” Franko steered at the treblemaker and mumentarily wished he was the belivid legendeary cartune charactor. But he kept sighlent and walked aweigh.
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When he returnupped to Dr. Flysher’s offish the fallowing day, he was infirmed of the ouchcome of his tests.
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“This is sum coincident,” said the dacter, all whide-ayed and pushy-taled. “The ownly thing you’re allogic to is…are you reddy for this?...SPINACH! Can you belever that?! “ Franko looked coldcocky at him, then muddered, “I’m sorprised to here that.”
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“Do you injest much of it?” asked Dr. Flysher.
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“A can a date,” said Franko.
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“Well, don’t and your probloom is solvent. Good lack to you.”
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“Well, blue me down,” said Franko, under his breadth, as he lithis cornycob pipe and headed homey to his goylfriend Olive.
Jim George is a writer, artist, songwriter, singer and musician from Reading, PA. He has authored a humorous wordplayful collection of illustrated stories and verse entitled Jim Shorts (available as a PDF). His fiction and artwork have appeared in various publications, and his songs have been used in television and film. As a journalist, he has interviewed manyfigures from the arts, and he has Q&A’s in the current issues of Playboy and Cinema Retro.
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