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Fatty, The Masseur & The Truthteller

There’s outrageous Winter Holiday party going in Jenny & Charles’s home.

Fatty, the masseur, grabs you by your neck and pins your head beneath his well-muscle forearm. And he begins to play praying mantis poking down your spinal cord.

I’m in pain.

I yelled out acapella every time he fiddles with my upper body. And all the partygoers sung along with me. (I couldn’t hear them because I was in pain).

Fatty spoke to me in his loud Southern voice and he said to me, “You see? People at this party know you are the commanding humble leader. I’m right? I saw your candle inside of your aura. But, it is out”.

Zizzed. Puff.

I nodded my head.

Fatty said, “I believe that your neck & shoulders were blocked by rock hard memories with your ex-girlfriend (thirty days ago) and with your mother (over thirty years)”. He didn’t know about my ex-girlfriend and, definitely, knew nothing about my mother.

My head was sunk to my groin and Fatty was whispering, “Be the power over everything. Don’t worry about your ex-girlfriend. You are capable of charming the pants off any woman. Be yourself”.

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