Tasis

Tasis (ta’-sis): Sustaining the pronunciation of a word or phrase because of its pleasant sound. A figure apparent in delivery.

B-I-I-I-G! The bump on my forehead had gotten the size of a small pumpkin. It was actually bigger than a bump & bigger than a lump too! It was more like a molehill without a hole. Or, half a cantaloupe. Maybe at some point it would look like a unicorn horn, and maybe explode and splatter my windshield or bathroom mirror or TV screen with whatever the hell was sloshing around inside it.

I have decided after one month of the bump, to go to the doctor and get it diagnosed and fixed. I’m sure it is some kind infection that is not fatal or I would’ve been dead already. Well, maybe not. The doctor will tell me. If I’m going to die, so be it.

I made an appointment with Dr. Dieter Stollen. He specializes in Pus-Swollen Skin Sacs. He took one look at my forehead at said “Das ist no tannenbaum!” He was trying to be humorous. He squeezed my bump and it made a squeaking sound. When it squeaked he pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pants. He reached in the drawer on his operating table and pulled out a shiny knife around ten inches long. I told him I thought it was a little big and he said “Vee vill see Mr. Know-it-all.” He told me to disrobe and lay on the table. Before I knew it, he and the nurse strapped me down. The nurse started administering me anesthesia. She laughed as she counted me down from 10 and said “Don’t worry my little puss machine.” That’s the last thing I remembered before I woke up.

The doctor was holding up a jar with what looked like a giant blue worm squirming around in it. It was at least six inches long. There was pus splattered all over the place—my gown was soaked and smelled like mayonnaise. The worm stopped wriggling and looked at me with its little black oval eyes. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like it was crying.

The Doctor told me it was a Boogey Worm. it gets into your nose via picking it with an unclean pinky. Then, it climbs up your nose and makes a nest behind your forehead where it lays three little eggs that roll out your nose and into your food, where you eat them and they grow to maturity in your stomach. Once they have grown, they exit out your anus taking up residence in a sewer treatment facility or septc tank. The giant worm in my head was a breeder—very rare.

I asked him if I could keep the giant worm as a souvenir. He said: “Vi not? Just do not let him get out of da jar.” I didn’t listen. I named him Joe and got him a terrarium. I fed him Crisco and pork suet. He was flourishing. But then, I woke up one morning and Joe was gone. I searched high and low. I found him under the kitchen cabinets, but he was so fast I couldn’t catch him. Then one day, he shot out the front door and disappeared forever.

The only thing I’ve changed in my life is I use a sanitary wipe on my pinky when I pick my nose.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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