TRIMMING (any gender, early twenties to late life)
Video message to search party number 432
From maroon vessel D12, location unknown
Date is July, the twenty fourth
two thousand seventy two
Guys: If you do not get your act together and find my ship within the next two days I will punch the red button with my foot and let the alien out of his trap.
I know this highly dangerous to me and to the company, I know that this violates all protocol but I WILL be pleading exemption due to emergency:
I need someone to trim my toenails.
Since losing the use of my arms, I HAVE been able to use the ship's computer, I HAVE been able to eat and I HAVE been able to expel waste, though it's not a pretty sight.
Still, the one thing I have NOT been able to do is trim my toenails. I have tried to bite them but I do not have the flexibility and my last attempt nearly dislocated my hip. I have tried to file them against the air filtration grate but this only resulted in cracking and swelling.
I now have toenails that are brittle, painful, and are curling down under my toes. Soon I will not be able to walk and if I cannot walk, I cannot survive. Do you understand?
Before I trapped the alien, he was able to bite my arms off with a surprising amount of precision. My stumps are smooth and the heat in his breath burnt off my blood flow. His jaws are strong and his teeth are fine. My hypothesis is that if I can arrange a truce with the alien, he will be able to trim my nails effectively. In exchange he gets to go back to his family.
I understand that a truce may not be realistic. I understand that a safe trimming of my nails may not occur. I understand that releasing the alien will compromise company security. Thus: If you don't like it, YOU LAZY GRUNTS HAVE FORTY EIGHT HOURS TO FIND MY ASS!
AND WHEN YOU DO BRING SOME FREAKING CLIPPERS!
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes. If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"