The Divine Battle

As long as I can remember I’ve had the habitual problem of scrubbing too far back on my tongue whilst engaging in my ritual tooth brushing.  In the spirit of saving my friends and loved ones from the legendary beast halitosis I try to ensure the scouring of every square inch of real estate in my mouth hole.  Cleaning Gamma Sector Alpha (i.e. the back of my tongue) is always a dangerous affair that requires careful adaptation and attenuation to the contours of the area in order to avoid tonsils and uvula alike.  It’s usually standard procedure for me to contact my animal spirit guide, the Eagle, to lead me in the path to proper tongue brushing.  

One memorable day I did not heed the advice of the Great Eagle Spirit and I struck a vulnerable spot with my bayonet of a toothbrush.  I immediately felt the gateway to my stomach, the mighty sphincter it usually was, quaver with a queasiness that was unquestionably malevolent.  I could feel the pathways of my back throat opening for an unseen enemy.  So I sat down.

My mouth was becoming juicy, so I had no choice but to keep swallowing, a repetitive act that was aggravating the gatekeeper with each gulp.  But I was able to stave off the exodus enough to stand up.  I felt slightly better.  I walked to my bedroom to lie down and briefly rest this hideous feeling off.  

Suddenly, I felt flushed once more!  Run, Erik—run to the restroom before its too late!

When I returned to the tiled sanctuary, however, I felt that beastly feeling drain away from me.  False alarm, perhaps?  I spun on my heels and walked out.

Treachery!  The feeling came back in force and the demons within my stomach mustered all their strength to break free before I could re-enter the vomitorium.  Then I made my mistake.  I instinctively clapped my hands over my mouth, but the volume of fluid I was expectorating could not be held back.  Instead, imagine putting your thumb over the opening of a hose, and that’s exactly analogous to what happened to me.  A sphere of vomit emanated from me and painted the hallway a new, unsavory color that you’ll never find in Home Depot’s home improvement department.  

Checkmate, foe.  Checkmate.