Mother and Daughter

I wondered where to go or whom to do next when I heard an argument. "But mom, my sorority sisters will be there!"

I turned to see a college aged girl standing with her hands on her hips. She was medium height, curvy, with thick shoulder length hair dyed platinum blonde. She wore khaki shorts and a dark purple v-neck t-shirt. She was facing a woman who was an older version of the girl, but a bit shorter with wider hips and bigger boobs. The older woman's hair was dyed honey blonde and cut in a bob. She wore a sleeveless sundress and strappy heels. "Look," the older woman said, "maybe if your dad wasn't such a skinflint, we can hire a horse-drawn carriage to drop you off at your demoisselle party, but he won't."

"Shoulda pushed for more alimony," the girl said gruffly.

I thought about the fact people would believe anything you said no matter how ridiculous, and these two looked like a good pair to really fuck with. You stroll over to them. "Excuse me, ladies," I said, "I am from the Center for Disease Control, and by the look of you, I can tell you have come down with the very dangerous Romulan Rectal Mimosis."

"Oh god!" said the mother. "What is that?"

"It's serious," I said. "Unchecked, it can cause all of your hair to fall out, your nostrils to expand, uncontrollable flatulence, and loss of bladder control."

"For the love of god!" said the girl. "What can we do?"

"Calm down," I said. "There's a simple four day regime to follow." First, you must go buy a large tub of lard. Smear lard all over your butt and up your butt crack every 8 hours. You must wear an adult diaper so the lard stays in place and you don't ruin your clothes. For the next four days, you must follow this diet: For breakfast, you must eat a can of refried beans, a hard boiled egg, a cup of coffee, and sixteen ounces of prune juice. For lunch, you must have a can of vegetarian chili with beans, a bowl of broccoli, another cup of coffee, and sixteen more ounces of prune juice, and for dinner, have a can of pork-n-beans, decaf coffee, and sixteen ounces of prune juice."

The mother was entering all of this on her phone, so I paused while she caught up. When she was finished, I continued.

"Your feces and urine are highly contagious, so do not flush it. Get a five gallon bucket from a hardware store and use that as a latrine. After four days, call the CDC and tell them you have a bucket of contaminated feces for them to dispose of and they need to come get it. Finally, do not shower for four days, and tomorrow, expose your bare butts to the sun for forty-five minutes tomorrow starting at noon. Do not use any suntan lotion, just lard. Do this, and your disease will go away. And finally, do not under any circumstances tell anyone. We don't want to start a panic."

The ladies were nearly in tears, but nodded. They were scared.

"Just follow my instructions," I said. "Oh, and when you walk, stick your butts out and lean forwards. Your rectums are the first line of defense. It's where the disease starts and will end. Now, head to the grocery store right away. Don't worry about what anyone thinks. Just take care of your health!"

"Thank you so much!" said the mother. She reached out to shake my hand.

"No, contagious," I said.

"Oh, yes."

The two women walked off. They looked silly leaning forward with their butts stuck out, and I waited until they were out of earshot to laugh at them.