Free A Million Versions of Right by Matthew Revert

through the door, bricolage scrotum in tow.
    “What in the heck is that, Mr W?” she asked in disbelief.
    Mr Wilkens look surprised but happy to see his assistant. It was a dash of normality in what had turned out to be a decidedly un-normal day. “Bernice, my dear, when did you get here?”
    “I’ve been waiting here for about five hours. I knew you’d show up sooner or later.”
    She became guarded before asking, “So, d’ya get Tina back?”
    Mr Wilkens fell onto the couch next to Bernice and allowed himself a hearty laugh, which released some of the negativity within him.
    “No, Bernice, it’s fair to say that I didn’t get Tina back. All I got was this thing.”
    He waved the bricolage scrotum about in her confused face.
    “And what exactly is that?” she asked, selfishly pleased that Tina was still gone.
    “This is my new scrotum. It would appear that my real one is indisposed right now and I shouldn’t expect to get it back anytime soon.”
    Mr Wilkens’ laughter was quickly replaced with pitiful sobbing and helplessness. Bernice wasn’t prepared to let her boss dwell.
    “Now let me get something straight, Mr W. You’re telling me that even without Tina, you want your balls back?”
    “I don’t know, Bernice.”
    “Well, do you hate balls or not?”
    “I really don’t know, Bernice.”
    She rolled her eyes and pressed on, “Okay then, are you so obsessed with balls that you’d be willing to keep that ridiculous thing?” She pointed toward the bricolage scrotum.
    Bernice snatched the scrotum from his hand and flung it into the fire, which resulted in an unexpected explosion that blackened the room.
    “Even if you did want your balls back, Mr W, you don’t wanna be worshiping some imitation. If there’s sanctity to be had, whichever side of the scrotum debate you’re on, you don’t wanna be shitting all over it with a crudely made recreation.”
    Mr Wilkens draped his arm over Bernice’s shoulders and nuzzled into her neck.
    “You know, I think you’re right,” he mumbled through mouthfuls of neck fat.
    Bernice grinned. She was comfortable in this position and she yearned to make it last.
    “You know something, Mr W?” she asked.
    “What?”
    “I prefer you without balls. I don’t want them things getting in the way when I have my tongue up you.”
    Mr Wilkens laughed a little too hard, accidentally biting down on Bernice’s neck, taking a chunk of flesh with him as he pulled away.
    “Sorry about that,” he said as blood trickled down his chin.
    Bernice waved it off with a forgiving hand.
    “You know, Bernice, I also prefer myself without balls. I don’t want balls. I’ve never wanted balls. The fact that Tina managed to convince me otherwise is actually quite terrifying and that isn’t an influence I need in my life.”
    He kissed Bernice on the cheek and fell to the ground in a violent coughing fit. Hundreds of moths poured out of his mouth with every new heave. They died just as quickly as they were born. Bernice was instantly at his side, massaging his stomach and brushing the dead moths from his eyes. It took some time for Mr Wilkens to recover from the exertion.
    Bernice helped Mr Wilkens to his feet and gently guided him back toward the safety of the couch. As his backside made contact, one last cough birthed two perfectly formed butterflies, which danced about in rings together. The two sat in comfortable silence for some time as they watched the butterflies dance.
    “Bernice,” said Mr Wilkens, eventually breaking the silence.
    “Yes Mr W?”
    “Call me Spencer.”



THE GREAT HEADPHONE WANK
     
    She tells me to shut the fuck up and that little nightly zone I so carefully create for myself vanishes, like it never existed. I muster up a huff and flick off the stereo. The sound cuts out immediately and I’m left in an uncomfortable silence. My ears begin to adjust and pick out night-time noises, usually ignored by those blessed with the ability to sleep. She has