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  • Writer's pictureKD Webster

Sweet Ole Pain

(Note, this story was written Spring 2020)

A bit of backstory for context. KD had total hip replacement surgery in his left hip a few weeks ago. He’d been laid up in the house that whole time, and cabin fever was beginning to set in.

“I think I’m going to Barnes and Noble. Get some writing in,” KD said.

“That’s nice,” ole Pain said. “Good to know you’re feeling inspired and what not.”

“Yeah, I got four ongoing projects. One horror, two young adult, and one romance.”

“Ahh! A love story! Sweet. But nah bruh, you best stay right here and write. In fact, word on the street is you can write a short story on just about any topic, soooo…why don’t you sit here and write about me? Write about ‘Dear Sweet Ole Pain’ here?”

KD looked down on him and frowned. Pain was chilling in KD’s thigh, sipping lemonade and swinging lazily on the makeshift hammock he made out of KD’s muscle tissue. Frankly, KD had had enough. “First, I wouldn’t even know how to write about you. Second, I have a high threshold for pain. Third, and more important, I don’t have to explain a darn thing to you.”

Pain didn’t bother to look up, just kept swinging side to side. “True. Yeah, true that. True that, but nah bruh. You see, right now I’m just at level 3. But keep talking that shit and flapping those gums and I’ll shoot that pain level up to a 9, maybe 10. Feel me?”

So a little more context here. You see, when KD is in a zone, he tends to well, let’s say, personify how he feels into actual characters. So yeah…the man is having a conversation with his pain from surgery.

“C’mon, man. Work with me here,” Pain continued. “I’m trying to make nice. And why would you wanna go anywhere? We have the Amazon Firestick (jailbroke, of course), Playstation 4, some of them meds the doc gave that give you that ‘feel good, feel good’, ya feel me?”

Truth be told, Dear Sweet Ole Pain had a thing for those meds. Tramadol, Flexiril, and Oxycodone. Something about those three made Ole Pain feel so relaxed. Sometimes it was an intimate one on one with a single medication. But those times when all three were together? Well, then it was a party. ‘The Three Sisters’, what Pain called them when all three were used together. KD hated when it became a party. Because he always got talked into joining the party and never remembers what he did during said party. Kinda like that movie with the guys who went to Vegas that did things they don’t remember the next day. Crap! I’m rambling. My bad. Back to the story.

“I’m still going. And before you utter a word about the Coronavirus, I already washed my hands. Save whatever you were gonna say for later, because I’m about to ignore your punk ass. Punk ass bitch. Like the kids say, save the drama for your mama.”

KD got in the car, turned the key, and pulled off. He lived not even four miles from Barnes and Noble. Not far at all. He figured he just needed to get in, order his coffee and start writing. Put his mind somewhere else and away from Ole Pain. But Sweet Ole Pain wasn’t having it.

“Punk ass bitch, huh? See, that’s some people’s problem. Some people don’t think fat meat greasy. That pigs don’t eat slop. But you know what the kids on my block say? A hard head make a soft behind.”

Pain went to a level 4. KD twitched with the twinge but kept driving. He was bound and determined to get to the bookstore.

“Pain is a sign of weakness leaving the body,” KD said with a smile.

Pain didn’t like that. He remembered the person who first used that lame line. Some fresh face freckled skin kid in the Marines. It was defamation of Pain’s character, sure. And Pain knew that, but if it helped the Marines do their thing, then okay. But KD was never a Marine. He was former Air Force. And what does the Air Force know about pain? Not a god…damn…thing.

“Some people don’t think pigs eat slop. I bet you don’t even know the difference between a gator and a croc, huh?” Pain asked rhetorically as he took the level up two notches to a 6. “Do you know who I am? Do you. I…am…pain baby. PAIN! What’s my name? Say my name.”

KD hissed through gritted teeth. “P-p-a-ain”.

“That’s it.” He took it to level 7. “Say my name again.”

KD ignored the pain. He saw the sign for Barnes and Noble at the next light. He just needed to make a left.

Pain laughed and jumped off his hammock. He whispered, ‘then I guess it’s gonna be a party tonight’. He waited for KD to slow down, pull into the parking lot and turn off the car. Thing is, KD was waiting too. He knew good and well the pain could come from out of nowhere. KD was on guard. Pain was looking for a sign. It became a waiting game. Like the standoff in the movies where things slow down and white doves start flying around. Pain figured he need to sell the deal so he went all the way down to a level 2. In that moment, KD felt better than he did when he left the house. He waited for KD to flex his left leg muscles. That was the sign Pain wanted. Pain pulled on the crank so hard it shot to a level 10. KD grunted, tried to push through it. Pain laughed again when KD found he could not get his leg to cooperate enough to get out of the car. He had no choice but to start up the car again and leave the parking lot. Heading for home.

“Do you know who I am baby? I am pain. Ole Pain. Sweet Pain. Dear Sweet Ole Pain. Say it how you feel it baby, but you know my name is PAIN. You think you run you? Look here bruh, when I come to visit, I run you. Feel me?”

KD grunted, letting out the occasional moan.

Pain liked that. “Yeah, you wanna write? You will write about me. What’s my name.”

KD groaned, “Pain.”

Pain ran up and down KD’s thigh and hip in a smooth steady motion. It hurt so bad KD had to talk to himself to stay focused.

“Sweet Ole Pain,” KD said in a low whisper.

“That’s it,” Pain said in a low voice. “Moan and groan for me. Feel me.”

KD was trying not to rub his leg, but the primal instinct was there, and KD gave in. Anything to distract from what pain was doing to him. Soon as he got home he made a b-line for the bathroom to the medicine cabinet.

“The Three Sisters!” Pain yelled. “It’s gonna be a party.” Pain welcomed them each, one by one. “Come on in, make yourselves comfortable.

Soon afterwards, KD plopped on the couch, turned on the television and waited. Soon, it would be the television watching him. Until then, he would eat his meat lovers’ pizza and chicken wings. He watched a cartoon about kids in pajamas that only fight villainous kids at night or some such. He then decided he would go ahead and get at least some writing in. Soon, the Three Sisters will have their way with Pain. Until then, Pain will have his way with KD. So KD wrote and wrote and wrote. All while Pain whispered in KD’s ear: ‘Punk Ass Bitch’.

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