There's a chance I could be spotted. I've searched the immediate area and it seems I remain unnoticed. For how long? Good question as I wear prosthetic genitals on the outside of my pants. I put my hands over the gargantuan penis flippy-flopping in front of me like a water-hungry witching stick placed in the middle of a lake. I try to be nonchalant. I sip coffe. I read the paper.

Damn, I've dribbled some mocha on my fake jimmy. Reaching down with my napkin, I rub the droplets from the massive shaft. Okay, people noticed that. I am discovered.

People are staring at me. I'm pretty sure I know why, but I decide to test my theory. Slowly, I begin to shift my hips from side to side. I build speed and rhythmn. He sways hypnotically. Some of the more prudish onlookers gasp and look away.

I was right. These people are staring at Him. I stroll across the parking lot giving no indication
that I even notice the cognizant and practically prehensile penis jutting thusly.

The first place I can hide is a bank directly across from where I'm standing. I walk in prepared to put the customers at ease. My hands held out to my sides and above my head in a gesture of supplication, and with Him attending me, I raise my face and holler, "This is not a stick-up. I mean you no harm." To emphasize my point, I reach out and thump His side.

A woman screams. Another follows suit. The bank madness has begun early this season. Overpowered by gravity, the customers drop to the floor. The tellers all push their panic buttons as one.

"I repeat: Not a stick-up", I try to explain myself. I go so far as to flash the 'hang loose Hawaii' sign. Nothing works. These people are stupid.

Another scream, another another scream. Sirens in the distance, foretell the arrival the local gendarmes. A gunshot pierces the din of the situation, (It's mine). A succession of gunfire follows the intial shot, and I scream like a loon (I've never actually seen a loon, but from what I understand, they scream very loud.) I can't control this raging mob scene. Police vehicles surround the bank. The police are screaming at me to freeze, the bank customers are still screaming from before, (I accidentally shot a couple of them), and He is getting angry. I figure; go with it.

Fire appears to leap from my hand as I unload my gun. A spark flies from the blazing gun barrel and lands on Him. Engulfed in flames and engorged with plastic blood.

The screaming continues. I run out of ammo. I take my burning penis in both hands and run out of the side door. I'm in luck, the police missed the blinking neon exit sign and left it unguarded.

I run back across the street, and realize I never finished my coffee. I turn toward Starbucks. Before I get to the door, it swings open. The world stops as an angel emerges from the store. She has a large vagina glued to her dress. Mein Fraulein.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...