Beauty

word count: 482

    “You do not need this honey; really, I love you the way you are.  I mean you are one hot babe, you don’t need enhancement anywhere.”  I knew it was useless.  I’d lost this argument years ago, but still, every time I feebly tried to put up some resistance.  It was like rebuilding a trailer park in tornado alley, year after year.  I would never learn.

    She looked at me with frustration and building disgust, “Don’t you want to kiss nice full luscious lips?  I mean look at me, I have like, pipe cleaners for lips, little skinny flat things, they’re even fuzzy like pipe cleaners, how could you even stand to kiss them?”

    “Oh yeah, like we even kiss anymore, how would I know they’re fuzzy?  Besides they aren’t fuzzy for crying out loud.”  Dang, that was a mistake; she was coming after me with both barrels now.

    “What do you mean we don’t kiss anymore?  Is that all you think about?  You are such a sex fiend, every other Friday night in the dark isn’t enough for you?  What do you think you’re John Travolta or something?  You think maybe you’re better than twice a month?  I don’t think so pal.”

    “Yeah, sorry, what the hell was I thinking?”  I smacked myself in the forehead with my palm, “Is this the Friday that we get to…”

    “What the hell is wrong with you?  Is that all you think about you pig? I am having a crisis here, I need that Botox® injection buster and I need it NOW, do you understand?  It’s not like I am an addict or anything, I just need some serious lips.”

    “Okay, whatever, you want lips like the ‘Hindenburg’ have at it.  You know that one actress, the one with breasts like five-gallon buckets?  Well her lips are bigger, than her breasts, you are going to end up like that if you aren’t careful.  A giant piece of plastic Botox®, there won’t be any actual flesh left on you.”  That’s appealing, yuck, I thought.

    “What?  What are you saying?  Do I need breast augmentation also?  Which should I do first?  These things aren’t like five-gallon buckets?  Quick call the plastic surgeon, and schedule an appointment for me.  God, I can’t go out in public like this, go get a paper bag and a burlap sack before you put me in the trunk of the car.”

    I gave up.  I suppose I had dug my own hole.  I had opened my mouth after all.  “Okay. Okay, you win, let’s go and get this over with.  You do know what is in those shots right?”

    “Yes, and I don’t care, just get your credit card and take me to Dr. Racket’s office.”

    As we left Racket’s office she asked, “Weh how dho my whips wook?”

    “Oh just fine honey, your lips look just like a sheep’s butt."

word count: 482