I Am A Human-Sized Dr. Pepper Who Loves You

“You just don’t understand,” George said. “I don’t think you can understand.”

Rachel wiped the tears from her eyes. “If you’d just tell me, George, maybe…” She sniffled. “Maybe we could work through this.”

George’s eyes were glassy. Rachel hadn’t seen him cry since his mother had passed and she didn’t know how to react. Usually, he was bubbling with energy. Why had the last few days gone so badly?

“If I tell you, there’s no going back,” George muttered, looking at the floor, as if trying to hide his face. Rachel stepped close to him. She raised her arms to embrace him, but George shrunk away.

“Whatever it is, I’m ready for it,” Rachel said, and George stared into the eyes, whispered something unintelligible, and began to pull at the flesh of his forehead.

It was like taking plastic wrap off a plate of food. The skin tore easily, and, just before the husk left George’s mouth, Rachel thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile. A smile of relief. There was only a little blood.

The skin clumped on the floor in a depressed heap. It barely looked real anymore, compared to the dark brown liquid that had been hiding underneath. George took off his shoes, and put them to the side. He then ripped his feet off, which he placed neatly inside his shoes.

“For safe keeping,” George said softly.

Rachel beheld a six-foot, one-inch bottle of Dr. Pepper, surrounded by a moat of laundry, epidermis, and some slight organ tissue. At first, Rachel seemed taken aback. George, in turn, was taken aback by how small Rachel’s reaction seemed. He expected screams, those of emotional and physical agony. The wind chilled him. They were on top of a mountain.

“Of course I still love you,” Rachel blurted out, and she finally was able to wrap her arms around George, despite the condensation that now clung heavily to the sleeves of her hoodie.

George rested in her grasp. He felt foolish for having not told her earlier. He looked down at her, only to catch her looking up at him.

“Can I?” she asked timidly.

“Of course,” George said. “I am a human-sized Dr. Pepper who loves you.”

Rachel grinned, and yanked George’s head off. It didn’t hurt.


8 responses to “I Am A Human-Sized Dr. Pepper Who Loves You

    • Doesn’t your remark–or rather, the thinking behind it–require an assumption that you are superior in some way to a super-sized bottle of Dr. Pepper?

      Please don’t think any personal criticism is intended. I’m sure you, too, have many fine qualities, among which may also be included extra carbonation masking an odd half strawberry-half medicinal flavor.

      • As an oversized, guilt-ridden Mr. Pibb, my relief was directed toward the empathetic, accepting nature of his partner.

        However, your cynicism has exposed this tale for the fantasy it is, and I am snapped back to a reality where hasty judgments prevail in lieu of understanding.

        The lie continues.

      • I’m not sure of what to think of the world anymore. This comments section has shaken my belief in human sodas. I used to think that my faith could not be broken. Now? Now, I’m not so sure.

  1. I want to know if he had a screw-top under that head. I want to know if he allowed her to take a sip of his precious bodily fluid.

    You never run out of ideas, do you, Daniel? Endlessly creative. If the world were more literate…

    …then beggars would ride…to Canterbury, reading your tales aloud to one another, calling out “Ho! Good jape, that!” 🙂

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