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Tim Schafer Tim

That wart is still attached, but it’s just not as spunky as it used to be. And, to be totally honest, it’s not really much of a wart anymore. The dermatologist froze it with liquid nitrogen, and it’s pretty much just lifeless matter now, attached to my body. Pretty disgusting. It’s hard like a pebble, and yet somehow it still counts as the tip of my pinkie. It’s me, it’s part of me, but it’s dead. I guess teeth and hair are kind of like that. So maybe it wouldn’t seem so gross if I try to think of it as a little, black tooth that someone rammed under my fingernail. Ooh, wait, no. That’s actually grosser. Ick. I can hear it click, click, clicking on the “A” key as I type. Maybe I should think of it as a dead Siamese twin, but much smaller than me, and darker, and quieter.

Hmm. If he or she had grown beyond the size of a pea, that would have been weird. We would have been Siamese twins attached at the pinkie-tip. A little pinkie pal for life! Well, when he or she falls off eventually, hopefully, later this week, and if I can resist the urge to eat it, I’ll sell it on ebay. And not like that rat I said I would sell but then did not because of those fussy ebay people. I’m taking this wart all the way. We’re going for it! This necrotic nubbin is the first thing I’ve produced since 1998, and I’m putting it on the market, damnit! Stay tuned.

(Oh, please God. Let it fall off before it starts talking. Just this once!)

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