Just Say NO to Mayo

It all started when I sold my motorcycle

For a one-way ticket to the British Isles

I was following a girl

Who went to university in Leeds

She wanted to become a barrister

To fight for women’s needs

I stayed in the south where I could make some cash

I was heading up north for my birthday bash

There was a deep pain in my stomach

I was curled up feeling sad

That mayo on my sandwich must have been bad

My stomach hurt for three days

I went to the doctor

Amazed I didn’t have to pay

Boarding British rail

I was on my way

To see my friend

I could not wait

Arriving at our destination

Six hours late

I didn’t really mind

Until a bottle of wine

Got busted in my nap sack

Going through the turn style

I heard a whack

All my stuff was wet

Still I didn’t fret

I was too excited to see my friend

Plus my stomach was on the mend

I was feeling great

We put my stuff in the wash

And went out and on our date

I hadn’t eaten in days

So a big meal I ate

Walking on the way home

My stomach groaned

I picked up the pace

She said this isn’t a race

You don’t understand I have to go

Please don’t walk so slow

Squeezing my cheeks

Moving my feet

I made it to the door

Half way up the stairs

This isn’t fair

Everything came rushing out

The look on her face

Was like she just got maced

She was pretty clever

Hosing me off in that cold weather

Later that night I tried to get frisky

She said the world doesn’t contain enough whisky

Ruff

Mark and I sat in a vacant lot laughing uncontrollably. An old church towered behind us.

It was late at night and we were trying to rein ourselves in from some mind-bending substance.

Everything was so funny, we couldn’t stop laughing.

We lived across the street.

We didn’t want to wake anyone up.

A puppy darted around the field, playfully dancing around us.

Mark called to the puppy.

The puppy happily bounced over to us.

Mark petted the puppy.

The puppy ran off to the street and immediately got run over by a speeding truck.

The truck came to a screeching halt.

Lights started popping on in the houses up and down the street.

I looked at Mark. He was looking at the hand that petted the pooch.

Neighbors started pouring out of their houses screaming at the driver.

Mark and I moved back into the shadows of the church.

He kept looking at his hand.

Eventually we were able to cross the street and go home.

We both worked in the morning so I didn’t see him till the next evening.

I met him at the pub.

I could tell he was still freaked out.

He looked at his hand like he had inherited the black hand of death.

We sat in silence even though the pub was buzzing with activity.

I wanted to tell him stuff just happens man.

I looked Mark in the eye.

The only thing I could say was…

Ruff.