When Katie picked up the nicely wrapped gift from the pile, I knew it was a bad idea. The little stuffed bear tied to one end was, to me, a dead giveaway. It had my uncle’s name all over it, but since this was a white elephant gift exchange, all I had was a hunch.
I wanted to tell Katie to be careful, but when she grabbed it and asked me if I thought the bear was cute, I saw my uncle laughing to himself as Katie unwrapped a huge black dildo.
“I think you might be stuck with that,” I said to her. I was holding a bouquet of plastic flowers lit up in a plastic sphere and it was easily the best gift of the night. Every time someone took a turn, Katie tried a new marketing strategy to rid herself of her big, black albatross.
“Wow! It even has a suction cup.”
“It’s so heavy!”
“This would go great in your house.”
“Don’t you have shoes that match this?”
Nothing worked and when we were leaving the party, I had the plastic flowers someone had taken from me in the game, but I stole them back shortly after, and Katie had the dildo and the stuffed bear.
It was raining on the way to the car, and as I was unlocking it, I saw Katie’s arm go up into a stabbing motion and in slow-motion, I saw Katie slam the big black dildo down onto the hood of my car as I screamed, “No!”
“Wow. It really does stick. Brandon, look.”
I was horrified. I threw my stuff in the car and ran over. I yanked on the dildo and it wouldn’t come off the car.
“Katie! It’s raining!”
“I know.”
“And the car is wet.”
“Yeah.”
“And the dildo is stuck there now. It won’t come off if it’s wet.”
She said I was being dramatic and started yanking on the dildo. A few minutes later, when other party goers were emerging from the house, they each would stop and watch Katie and I each taking turns trying to pry the suctioned dildo off the car and offering suggestions.
“Try sliding it off.”
“Have you thought about the balls?”
Some of them took turns themselves, but the dildo on the car was the sword in the stone, and none of us stood to inherit the throne.
Soaked, Katie and I got in the car and looked at the big black dildo pointing to the sky. Like the Spirit of Ecstacy on the Rolls Royce, we had the Spirit of Degeneracy on an aging Eclipse.
When Katie said you could barely see it, I agreed and thought it was not so bad. All we had to do was get the car into the garage and let it dry and it should pop off the hood the next day. With things looking up, it was almost funny to see a huge wet dildo leaning away from turns on the way home.
The next day, I went out to the garage expecting the dildo to come right off and I’d be able to leave on time. I grabbed and pulled and my hand slipped off. I wiped it on my shirt and tried again, and the dildo didn’t budge.
I ran back upstairs and got Katie and we tried yanking and pulling, water and oil, praying and thinking, and nothing worked.
The best idea we could come up with, since I had to be on the road, was to decorate the shit out of it. It was Christmas and maybe people would think it was a little hood ornament tree. I had battery-operated lights and tinsel and we wrapped up the dildo and when we were done, it looked like a even bigger dildo covered in tinsel, garland, and lights.
It would have to do, I was late and considering how I presented to the world at the time, I welcomed the distraction.
Every day, I prayed for a Christmas miracle. Every time I started the car, I asked, “God, if you’re listening, please get the black cock off my car. Amen.”
God did not see fit to remove me of my burden. My drug dealer started commenting about it and Katie was having me drop her off farther and farther from work.
By the middle of January, something needed to be done. The dildo leaning away from turns and bobbing down the street was no longer cute, and with the garland loose and the lights dim, no other driver on the road was convinced this was anything other than a poorly decorated big, black, and now weathered dildo. When I got home that day, I lit up a joint and realized I was going to have to cut it off.
Like Abraham and Isaac, I raised a blade to the dick, and like Abraham and Isaac, the angel of the Lord intervened and in my intoxicated state, I missed stabbing the dildo completely and the force of my stab knocked me off balance and into the dildo, knocking it off the car and onto the ground. I grabbed it and looked at the car. It was filthy except for one very clean circle on the hood.
I screamed and ran inside, waving the big dildo in the air. Katie had just finished a shower and was drying her hair when I showed it to her. She yelled and we cheered and it was so exciting. I told her how it happened and she laughed.
“That’s a strong dildo.”
“I know, right.”
“I wonder if it still sticks…”
And she grabbed the dildo and slammed it into the shower, where it lived for another four months.
B
I wanted to tell Katie to be careful, but when she grabbed it and asked me if I thought the bear was cute, I saw my uncle laughing to himself as Katie unwrapped a huge black dildo.
“I think you might be stuck with that,” I said to her. I was holding a bouquet of plastic flowers lit up in a plastic sphere and it was easily the best gift of the night. Every time someone took a turn, Katie tried a new marketing strategy to rid herself of her big, black albatross.
“Wow! It even has a suction cup.”
“It’s so heavy!”
“This would go great in your house.”
“Don’t you have shoes that match this?”
Nothing worked and when we were leaving the party, I had the plastic flowers someone had taken from me in the game, but I stole them back shortly after, and Katie had the dildo and the stuffed bear.
It was raining on the way to the car, and as I was unlocking it, I saw Katie’s arm go up into a stabbing motion and in slow-motion, I saw Katie slam the big black dildo down onto the hood of my car as I screamed, “No!”
“Wow. It really does stick. Brandon, look.”
I was horrified. I threw my stuff in the car and ran over. I yanked on the dildo and it wouldn’t come off the car.
“Katie! It’s raining!”
“I know.”
“And the car is wet.”
“Yeah.”
“And the dildo is stuck there now. It won’t come off if it’s wet.”
She said I was being dramatic and started yanking on the dildo. A few minutes later, when other party goers were emerging from the house, they each would stop and watch Katie and I each taking turns trying to pry the suctioned dildo off the car and offering suggestions.
“Try sliding it off.”
“Have you thought about the balls?”
Some of them took turns themselves, but the dildo on the car was the sword in the stone, and none of us stood to inherit the throne.
Soaked, Katie and I got in the car and looked at the big black dildo pointing to the sky. Like the Spirit of Ecstacy on the Rolls Royce, we had the Spirit of Degeneracy on an aging Eclipse.
When Katie said you could barely see it, I agreed and thought it was not so bad. All we had to do was get the car into the garage and let it dry and it should pop off the hood the next day. With things looking up, it was almost funny to see a huge wet dildo leaning away from turns on the way home.
The next day, I went out to the garage expecting the dildo to come right off and I’d be able to leave on time. I grabbed and pulled and my hand slipped off. I wiped it on my shirt and tried again, and the dildo didn’t budge.
I ran back upstairs and got Katie and we tried yanking and pulling, water and oil, praying and thinking, and nothing worked.
The best idea we could come up with, since I had to be on the road, was to decorate the shit out of it. It was Christmas and maybe people would think it was a little hood ornament tree. I had battery-operated lights and tinsel and we wrapped up the dildo and when we were done, it looked like a even bigger dildo covered in tinsel, garland, and lights.
It would have to do, I was late and considering how I presented to the world at the time, I welcomed the distraction.
Every day, I prayed for a Christmas miracle. Every time I started the car, I asked, “God, if you’re listening, please get the black cock off my car. Amen.”
God did not see fit to remove me of my burden. My drug dealer started commenting about it and Katie was having me drop her off farther and farther from work.
By the middle of January, something needed to be done. The dildo leaning away from turns and bobbing down the street was no longer cute, and with the garland loose and the lights dim, no other driver on the road was convinced this was anything other than a poorly decorated big, black, and now weathered dildo. When I got home that day, I lit up a joint and realized I was going to have to cut it off.
Like Abraham and Isaac, I raised a blade to the dick, and like Abraham and Isaac, the angel of the Lord intervened and in my intoxicated state, I missed stabbing the dildo completely and the force of my stab knocked me off balance and into the dildo, knocking it off the car and onto the ground. I grabbed it and looked at the car. It was filthy except for one very clean circle on the hood.
I screamed and ran inside, waving the big dildo in the air. Katie had just finished a shower and was drying her hair when I showed it to her. She yelled and we cheered and it was so exciting. I told her how it happened and she laughed.
“That’s a strong dildo.”
“I know, right.”
“I wonder if it still sticks…”
And she grabbed the dildo and slammed it into the shower, where it lived for another four months.
B
Posted by Peanut Butter And Jealous 
