The Hook Hand
It's said he lurks on romantic cliffs and in abandoned
parking lots. Wherever teens go to neck, he may be spotted in the rear-view
mirror. At first you'll only hear a faint scratching. If you're attentive, the
radio will warn you that a madman has escaped from a nearby asylum. But you
won't hear it, because he wouldn't come for you if you listened to important information.
So as hands slip under sweaters and toes curl, little scratches
will climb up the door of the car. You may mistake the whine of his hook hand
on the roof for the moans of your partner. Most folks are scared witless when
his specter finally looms, pulling on their clothes as they peel off for
civilization.
It's miles of burned rubber and ruined hard-ons later that
the survivors discover a wrapped condom hanging from the driver-side mirror. The
hook-handed maniac takes reproductive health very seriously.
Counter est. March 2, 2008