Enough is Enough

Cait was at a loss for words. She lay still in her bed; the gaping hole in her belly, surely, should be issuing forth blood and spilled internal organs. Her Stomach’s escape, however, only left her flesh and her skin splayed out like a popped balloon.

Her Stomach paced the oak rail of her foot board, shaking the gray-pink intestinal tubing on top, where a head should be. A gash for a mouth had appeared and two black holes above it – for eyes.

Cait, whose mouth had held agape for some time now, blinked un-blinking eyes and rolled a dry tongue around in her mouth. Her wit finally came back to her and she screeched at her stomach.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The gash in her Stomach opened. “I’m sick of you! That’s what. Or, rather, I’m sick with you! My acid’s been in a rage for weeks!”

Cait shook her head in disgust. “Well, how is that my fault? You’re the one in charge of digestion! How do you think that makes me feel? It’s damned embarrassing to be full of gas all the time!”

Her Stomach jumped down on the bed and started charging towards her. “Oh! And that’s all my fault, is it!”

As the Stomach drew closer to Cait, tiny vessels popped out the sides like little arms. Stomach waved those tiny vessels over its largest mass.

“I’m bloated! You’ve bloated me – with all your damned chocolate and dairy products! I’m lactose intolerant, for hell’s sake!”

Cait yanked at her covers and sent her Stomach rolling back to the foot of her bed. “You can’t just become lactose intolerant when you’re 30! That’s a load of crap.”

Stomach regained its composure and went back to pacing the foot board. “No, the load of crap is the stuff you’ve been feeding me every day, all day! It’s gotta stop, Cait. For the love of all that’s healthy, it’s gotta stop!!”

Cait let out a heavy sigh and looked back down at her belly. She drew a knee up, out of the covers, and took a good look at her enormous thigh. Then she lifted an arm and grimaced at the flap-dance her arm flab did as she waved it back and forth. Even the skin under her chin was feeling a little frumpy.

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

Stomach rubbed his two little arm-vessels together and its gash-for-a-mouth turned up into what could only be a smile.
“I need you to lay off the sugar, and the ice-cream and those greasy cheese fries! I can probably handle a glass of milk here and there. Rotate your veggies with some grain and feed me a little fruit and chicken from time to time. But, not too much! I’m not a machine, you know!”

Cait blinked her eyes hard and shook her head in agreement. “I’ll do my best. I promise.” Then, pointing to her belly, she said, “But, you really need to get back in here. Johnny will be back any minute and you know this sort of thing just wigs him out.”

“Yeah – the pansy ass. I feel sorry for his stomach!”

Stomach hopped back down on the bed and sauntered over to the hole in Cait’s belly. “One other thing. The soda pop. Keep it to a bare minimum, will ya?”

“I promise.”

“Great. See you on the flip side!”

Stomach hopped back in to Cait’s belly and the shards of broken flesh and skin sealed up smoothly.

The door to Cait’s bedroom opened and Johnny walked in with a platter full of flap jacks and bacon.

“Good morning, beautiful! I’ve got your favorite here.”

Cait held a hand to her belly and smiled at Johnny. “Looks wonderful! Just…no butter, OK?”