After leaving his posh position at the Department of Motor Vehicles, Mackelroy Puggsley thought he'd smelled the last psychotic fart to rattle his feeble brain. But in his new role as a psychologist, he quickly realizes that the problem is more widespread than he imagined.
Will a crazed client and his gassy brides prevent the old man from getting one last piece of nookie? Or will Mackelroy talk his way out of another bizarre situation and live to see another hair pie?
For mature audiences. Approximately 3,400 words in all.
EXCERPT FROM GASTROINTESTINAL BLUES
“So what do you think, doctor?” The sexy blond smiled.
“I’d say they’re 36DDs.” Mackelroy Puggsley gazed at her perky breasts.
“No, what do you think about everything I just said?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Schmutley. I didn’t realize you were speaking.” The old man scratched his snowy beard. He needed to get a handle on his new gig as a psychologist—next month’s rent payment depended on it! But it sure beat the hell out of filing paperwork at the DMV, a dull job that had turned surprisingly hazardous. “Would you mind repeating the last thing you said?”
Allison stared at him blankly. “So what do you think, doctor?”
“Definitely 36DDs.” He nodded. “No, wait. Tell me what you said just before that.”
“I’m not sure what to do.”
“Keep going.”
“And to make matters worse, the neighbor’s dog keeps sneaking into my house and peeing in my underwear drawer,” she said.
“Do you lock your doors and windows before leaving for work?” Mackelroy asked.
“Always.”
“And there aren’t any holes or secret passages that lead into the house?”
“Not unless they can come through the toilet.”
“Have you ever given your keys to a neighbor or friend?”
“Once, when I went to the Bahamas.”
“Well Miss Schmutley, I don’t think you have to worry about your neighbor’s dog anymore, and I highly doubt it’s urine.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she exhaled. “Anything but that.”
“Most likely it’s, uh…”
“Yes, Dr. Puggsley?”
