When I was single and out on my own for the first time, a
friend gave me a bed to sleep on.
She said the only problem was that there was a spring coming through on
one side. I thought a springy bed was
better than sleeping on the floor. I was
grateful and thanked her for the bed.
Little did I know that this was the spring that was sent on
a mission from Satan himself Since the
spring made a small hole on the opposite side of the big hole, I put a towel
over it. I made the bed and went to bed
looking forward to a night of relaxing, blissful rest.
The beast had other plans.
It sat there, biding its time. It
plotted and planned until the precise moment when I would roll over onto
it. There I was drifting in the
highlands of my mind when it happened.
I rolled over onto the spring. The spring condensed itself and sprung its
entire length to maximize the penetration into my body. Like the whalers of long ago, I was harpooned
in the backside. I let out yelp and leapt
from the bed. I was face down on my
stomach so I wouldn’t bend, break or deepen the penetration of the skewer protruding
from by buttocks.
Visions of emergency room doctors and nurses passing out at
the sight of the hideous spear flashed through my mind. I mourned the fact that I may never run again
let alone walk. I might not even be able
to sit properly.
There I was, moaning, when my roommate walked in the
room.
“What are you doing on the floor?” he asked.
I figured he must be half asleep and, therefore, blind. How could he miss such a large spring shaped battle-ax
sticking out of my butt.
In agony, I cried, “Dave, the bed stabbed me.”
“Where?”
“What do you mean where?
It’s right….” I looked behind
me. There was nothing there. That crafty spring had made its way back into
the bed without anyone seeing it. My
roommate snickered, rolled his eyes, and went back to his room.
Though I vowed to never be skewered like that again, there were many more nightly
contests with the evil bedspring.
Fortunately, I have lived to tell the tales.
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