It sits with a “Brighter Smile” shadow box propped hopefully against its vinyl, padded ground zero, sadly wishing that it could, one last time, irradiate someone’s jaw

     I wish my eyes were radioactive and my ass was a limousine. That way I’d at least have a half-life and could carry twelve of my friends in my colon.

     If you turned around, friend-who-would-ride-in-my-large-intestine-if-he-or-she-could, you would see a sad little server on top of a sad little counter in this, the quarters of the retired X-ray. “Applying Computer Settings” is the eternal lament of this fellow, the unfortunate side effect of Microsoft mandated updates from Microsoft’s foul pit of desperate and lonely work visa bearing programmers. Did it make me late? Yes, it did; thankfully not late as in the late Mr. Whited.
     It is better now, and my ears ring so loudly that people look for flying buttresses all around my thighs and seek to offer me confession. Catholic Nazis unite! HEIL MARY! HEIL MARY!