by Tara Sivec
“EVERYONE TAKE YOUR FUCKING SEATS! I’M GETTING MARRIED!” I scream, grabbing my father’s elbow and dragging him down the aisle.
I keep my eyes on Sam the whole way, reminding myself that none of this matters. The only important thing right now is getting to his side, saying our vows and finally becoming husband and wife. Fireworks explode, people scream, strippers might need to have their tits surgically removed, Scheva is running up and down the aisles trying to get people to dance or have sex with her, women and children are being evacuated, and none of it matters. All I care about is the man waiting for me at the end of this singed and dirty aisle.
Right when my father and I get to the front row and I think I’m home free, my mother leans into the aisle and stops us.
“How do you expect me to get blood and jizz stains out of your wedding dress?” she asks with a tisk and a shake of her head as she stares down at my dirty skirt. “Honestly, you two couldn’t have waited just a few more hours before you took Mr. Ed for a walk in your vagina?”
Before I can stop him, my father pulls his arm away from my hand and runs full speed toward Sam, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE BAD NEWS, SHIT TITS!”
Sam doesn’t even have time to brace himself before my father pulls his fist back and punches him in the stomach. My mother screams and I shout, but neither of us can be heard over the chaos happening all around us, that includes my father shouting about curdled milk and people spitting on sweet, innocent ice cream sandwiches, tainting them forever.
I probably shouldn’t have mumbled to my mother that the good news was, things couldn’t get any worse as we made our way up to Sam and my father.
Things can always get worse around my family, mark my words.
17
Pay Attention to Me and My Dick Fire
Sam
My eyes stay locked on Noel’s, even when she gets stopped a few times on her way up to me and has to look away. They always come back to me, and I search her face for any signs of homicidal thoughts as the fast rhythm of “Crazy Bitch” suddenly slows to an even more unromantic tempo.
“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,” I whisper under my breath, repeating the same words Noel made me say back in the house, hoping she can see my lips moving and know what I’m saying so she doesn’t freak out.
I’m actually kind of surprised she looks so calm when our beautiful, Ohio State-themed wedding has literally exploded in a fiery inferno all around us. It makes me feel confident that she knows what I’m whispering is true, even if she can’t hear me. Nothing matters but saying our vows and making this official.
Even after our sweaty quickie in the house, Noel looks just as beautiful as she did when I first walked into that room and saw her holding a fan by her vagina. Her gorgeous dress might now be stained with several months’ build-up of jizz and what looks like blood, but her hair still falls around her shoulders in perfect waves and the jeweled clip that holds one side of her hair up by her ear is still perfectly in place.
I’m so busy being mesmerized by how beautiful she is and blocking out the screaming, shouting and explosions of fireworks, that I don’t hear whatever Reggie shouts at me. I look away from Noel too late, not giving myself any time to run.
Reggie is suddenly in front of me, blocking my view of Noel and his fist slams into my stomach so hard that it knocks the wind out of me. My hands fly to my stomach and I bend forward at the waist, dry-heaving and trying to breathe through the pain. Through my misery as I stare down at my feet, I hear Noel and Bev come up to us, both of them screaming at Reggie.
I squeeze my eyes closed until the nausea goes away, breathing through my nose as I quickly lift myself back upright. I probably should have listened to the warning Alex gave us back at the house about keeping our eyes open and our heads down. Sure, I had my eyes open now, but I didn’t keep my head down and I definitely didn’t scan the area for danger before I popped back up.
A loud whistling sound screeches all around us, sounding much closer than any of the others before it, but since it’s the middle of the day and kind of hard to see fireworks, I had no idea where it was headed until it was too late. Suddenly, I see the side of Noel’s skirt fly up like something whizzed past it and then, I’m dying.
“OH, MY GOD! MY DRESS IS ON FIRE, MY DRESS IS ON FIRE!” Noel shouts in a panic as I drop to my knees in the grass.
My mouth is open and I know I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, but no one looks in my direction and no one cares that everything burns and I’M FUCKING DYING. They all dive on Noel, taking her to the ground as they quickly smack and pat at the fabric by her legs that caught fire when a firework flew by her dress.
The same firework that made a beeline right for my dick, slammed into it with the force of a sledgehammer and left behind nothing but burning ash and cinders where my dick used to be, going by how bad it fucking hurts.
My body tips to the side like a fallen tree, my shoulder slamming into the ground and my arms sticking straight out in front of me, my elbows locked and my hands clenched into fists as I continue screaming, but no one hears me. I want to move my hands to cover my dick, but I’m scared to death that it will hurt even more if I touch it. And I’m also scared as fuck that when my hands get there, my dick will still be on fire and there’s no way in hell I want people smacking it and patting it to put the fire out because JESUS MOTHER OF FUCKING FUCKS IT BURNS LIKE THE MOTHER FUCKING SURFACE OF THE FUCKING SUN!
“Honey, are you okay? Does anything hurt? You poor thing!” Aunt Bobbie cries as everyone moves off of Noel and she helps her up from the ground while I continue lying here in agony.
“Wow, that really was a vintage dress. One little spark and the whole skirt went up in flames,” Bev muses, rubbing her hand up and down Noel’s arm as they stare at the front of her dress.
I’ve stopped screaming at this point since that just made everything hurt worse, and no one gives a fuck that my dick was just incinerated on my wedding day. I writhe in pain in the grass, wondering if something else around me is on fire, or if the smell making its way to my nose is really the scent of my own burnt ball hair.
“At least we got the fire put out before you lost the entire skirt,” Aunt Bobbie states, wrapping her arm around Noel’s shoulder. “You’ve still got a few good inches left on that thing to cover up your hoo-ha.”
They all laugh as they look down at what’s left of Noel’s skirt, the edge hanging down at the top of her thighs and indeed covering her hoo-ha, laying in black, burnt tatters all around her bare legs.
The scent from moments ago finally engulfs me, so horrible that I dry-heave, my body jerking forward with the need to throw up and or cry, worrying that the smell of burnt ball hair has made its way up to me because my dick is still on fire.
When my knees come up as I heave, white-hot pain explodes between my legs a thousand times worse than seconds ago, and I can’t stop the painful cry that flies out of my mouth when my vision starts fading in and out. I really feel like one of these fucking people should be checking on me now that they know Noel is no longer at risk of becoming one big ball of fire, because I HAVE TWO BIG BALLS THAT ARE ACTUALLY ON FUCKING FIRE!
Knowing I most likely need medical attention STAT, I grit my teeth and scream as loud as I can.
“MY MOTHER FUCKING DICK IS ON MOTHER FUCKING FIRE! PAY ATTENTION TO ME AND MY DICK FIRE!”
The band suddenly stops playing, everyone in the yard stops screaming, and somehow, one of the guests figured out how to stop the fireworks from going off every two seconds. The quietness in the yard is only interrupted by a quiet curse from Fat Ralph, complaining that things were just starting to get fun and now he’s bored. The silence only lasts for a couple of seconds before everyone staring down at me in shock suddenly realizes what I’ve yelled and they all start shouting and moving.
“SAM!” Noel screams in a panic, dropping down next to me and pulling my head onto
her lap.
“Reggie, call an ambulance!” Bev cries, coming over to crouch down behind Noel.
“Tell us where it hurts, Sam,” Alex demands, bending over to poke and prod at my neck, shoulders and chest, asking me after each jab of his finger if it hurts.
I smack his hand away, crying out when I move. Noel runs her hands through my hair to try and sooth me, but not even the touch of her hand can stop the blistering pain between my legs.
“What can I do? Tell me what to do?” Noel asks with a quivering, terrified voice.
I hold my body perfectly still with my head in her lap, looking up at her with tears of pain streaming down my face.
“I just need you to look down at my dick and tell me if it’s on fire,” I tell her through wheezing pants. “If the fire is out, please don’t touch it or the ashes of my burnt dick will crumble in your hands and float away with the breeze.”
Aunt Bobbie suddenly pushes her way through the crowd that has gathered around us.
“EVERYONE OUT OF MY WAY! THIS MAN NEEDS THE COOLING TOUCH OF MY LIPS ON HIS MEMBER!” she shouts, falling to the ground on all fours and crawling toward me.
“Holy shiiiii-iiiiiiit!” Fat Ralph exclaims, stretching the curse out into two syllables as he stares down at me. “You done caught one of those wily fireworks with your dick. And here I thought you were a pussy. I lit a firework and shot it out of my ass once, but stopping a firework with your dick? That’s some straight-up gangster shit right there.”
He bends down and holds his fist out for me to bump, shrugging and stepping back when I don’t move because I’m too busy literally feeling the blisters form on my shaft and balls and not caring one bit that I’m full-on crying like a baby with my head in Noel’s lap.
“Did you get hit by the same firework that torched my dress? In the balls?” Noel asks in shock, her head turning to look down between my legs.
She tries to cover her cringe with a scary, teeth-clenched smile when she quickly looks away from the scorched crotch of my pants and back to me, but I saw the fear in her eyes and can only imagine what it looks like down there.
“It’s okay, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks,” she reassures me through her teeth and fake smile.
“It looks like someone doused his dick in gasoline and lit a match,” Reggie mumbles, which earns him a smack to the thigh from Bev, who is still crouched down behind Noel.
“It’s YOUR fault if our son-in-law’s penis is melted off and they can never give us more grandchildren!” she shouts at him before turning back to speak softly at me, look down at my face with a fake smile that matches Noel’s. “It’s fine, Sam. Just a teeny tiny little burn that I’m sure a little ointment will fix.”
Nicholas appears out of nowhere, panting and out of breath as he pushes through all the people still standing around staring at the burning embers of my penis.
“I ran back to the house and got something that will help,” he announces, tossing a bag of frozen peas at me.
As soon as the cold, hard bag of tiny frozen vegetable balls lands on my lap with a flop, my eyes bug out of my head and I let out a blood curdling scream. The crowd collectively gasps in sympathy, all of them taking a few steps back when a string of curses flies from my mouth that consist mostly of alternating versions of “Fuck, fuck, fuck, my fucking dick!” and “Fucking mother fucker shit fuck shitting fucker, my fucking dick!”
I continue sobbing and swearing nonsense as my dick throbs in the most excruciating pain I’ve ever experienced while Nicholas and Alex deal with the guests, getting them to stop gawking at me and finally move away by reminding them about the free, open bar.
I keep right on crying and cursing as Noel continues running her fingers through my hair and I hear a siren in the distance get louder and louder. The ambulance backs right up along the side of the house and into the backyard with the help of Reggie directing its way, stopping a few feet from where I’m lying.
The cursing and the crying continues as the two EMS workers hustle out of the vehicle, open the back doors to pull out the gurney, one of them kindly asking Noel to move out of the way so they can lift me up onto it. I’m still mumbling random “fucks” of pain as the two men lean over my body that they’ve strapped to the bed on wheels and take a few seconds to assess the situation. I finally stop carrying on like a baby - a baby with its mother fucking dick on fire– but I only stop because one of them suddenly rips away what’s left of the burnt crotch of my pants that melted to my balls, and I pass out before the scream of agony gets past my lips.
18
That’s Not Where Pee Goes
Noel
“Are you sure you want to do this here?” I ask Sam softly, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, holding his hand in mine.
“I don’t want to wait one more second, but are YOU sure you want to do this here?” he repeats back, bringing our hands up to kiss the top of mine. “This isn’t exactly a dream wedding location, and do you really want to marry me knowing I’m a pussy?”
I shake my head at him and take a minute to look around the small hospital room where we’ve been for the last six hours while Sam was treated for a small, circular burn right in the middle of the shaft of his penis. Just like my mother reassured him in the yard, it was nothing a little ointment couldn’t fix.
When Sam passed out after the EMS ripped some of the burnt material of his pants away from his skin, I lost about ten years off of my life riding in that ambulance with him while he was unconscious. He came to as soon as the ambulance pulled into the hospital, and when the EMS workers told us it wasn’t anything serious, Sam went a little crazy. He argued with them in the ambulance, as they pushed him through the hospital doors, down the hall and didn’t stop until the doctor came in and confirmed what they had told us. Even between winces of pain every time he moved, he hasn’t stopped calling himself a sissy, pussy, big baby, and every other insult he can think of after the doctor left the room, up until this moment.
Before I can reassure him that I would never think he was a pussy, a nurse walks into the room to clean off the area and apply some topical cream. We both watch her quietly as she works and I figure Sam must be feeling a little less angry and argumentative with the nice, young woman. And then she has to go and speak.
“If you didn’t have high blood pressure issues, we’d immediately discharge you for such a minor injury,” she states, dragging Sam’s hospital gown back down and pulling off her blue rubber gloves. “The doctor wants to keep an eye on your levels for a little while before we send you home.”
When she turns to toss her gloves into the trash can, Sam’s head whips to mine.
“Did you hear the way she said minor injury, all judgy-like?” he whispers. “The only reason my blood pressure is so high is because they keep calling my melted dick a minor injury. I’d like to know how SHE’D feel if someone lit her vagina on fire. We’ll see who’s the pussy THEN.”
Sam shuts his mouth and we both give the nurse a tight-lipped smile when she finishes writing on his chart, tells us she’ll be back to check on him in a little while and leaves the room.
“You aren’t a pussy, stop saying that,” I scold him when we’re finally alone.
Leaning down, I press my lips to Sam’s for a quick kiss before pulling back to continue what I was saying.
“I really think the doctor just didn’t fully grasp the severity of the situation. I mean sure, the firework only left behind a really small burn, but the spark that burnt off all your ball hair and melted the crotch of your pants is going to leave behind a lot of scars,” I remind him. “I mean, not actual scars, but you know, nightmares and stuff.”
Sam smiles up at me for the first time since we got here, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling my face closer to his.
“And this is one of the reasons why I love you and want to marry you right this minute. You totally get me,” he speaks softly.
“I love you more,” I
whisper, wrapping my hand around his forearm. “I don’t care if we get married in the most perfect, beautiful setting, in the middle of a firework catastrophe with all the guest screaming and ducking for cover, or in a hospital room with you wearing a hospital gown and me wearing a half torched, blood, grass-and-jizz-stained dress. I don’t care as long as you still want to marry me and deal with my family and the chaos that follows them for the rest of our lives.”
Our lips move back toward each other and we pause right before they touch, when the door to Sam’s room opens.
“Stop sucking face,” Nicholas complains as he walks through the door. “You know you can’t have sex for like, two days until that miniscule little burn you can only see with a magnifying glass heals, right?”
He laughs at his own joke and Sam flips him off as Alex comes in right on his heels.
“What a coincidence, you can only see Sam’s dick with a magnifying glass!” he smiles, walking around to the side of Sam’s bed.
“Will you people stop talking so loudly, my head is killing me,” Scheva mutters, shuffling into the room with a pair of dark sunglasses on, moving to stand next to Alex. “Noel, I think your dad roofied me and I’m a little concerned that my vagina is sore.”
Alex flings his arm around Scheva’s shoulders and pulls her against him.
“Reggie did indeed roofie you, but the sore vagina is all me. I’d just like to state that you were two seconds away from gang-banging all of the guests and I did what I had to do to stop you from making that terrible mistake, by letting you ride just one dick this afternoon. You’re welcome.”
Scheva drops her head to Alex’s shoulder with a sigh and Sam’s small hospital room gets even smaller when my dad, mom, and Aunt Bobbie push open the door and all file in, surrounding the bed.
