Jim and His Chin

A story of a boy and his facial structures.
"What we have here is a traumatic bone cyst," said Dr. Xid as he gestured to an area of the X-Ray, near, actually inside, the chin.

"These can be formed by very hard, painful contact with the chin. Fortunately, this can be easily fixed by an oral surgeon, which is not me, but I can give you his card." He handed Jim a small card-like object that said:

Dr. Samuel Quazipuke
777-383-1925
81 Faceman St.

"So should this be taken care of immediately, or can this wait?" said Jim's mom with a look that said "I'm supposed to be concerned, aren't I?"

"It doesn't have to be looked at immediately. You can even do it after he gets his braces off," said Dr. Xid.

Jim and his mom left the orthodontist's office after. In the car Jim's mom asked, "So do you remember ever hitting your chin that hard?"
"Nope," said Jim. "Hopefully this isn't too serious."
Ha.

Jim's mom seemed to want to procrastinate as long as possible. She waited two months after the orthodontist appointment to call the surgeon guy. Then they had to wait two weeks until they could get an appointment in at a reasonable time before Jim's bedtime of six-thirty (on the weekends).

This "surgeon" seemed creepily fond of chocolate and things involving chocolate or even the word chocolate. He was about five foot-seven inches tall. He frequently referred to himself as "chicken man", and used the excuse of "I have to go pee forever" to get out of uncomfortable confrontations or outings.

He had written an entire book about himself that he strongly recommended be read before embarking on an appointment with him. This book was about three hundred pages long and consisted of eighty chapters.

All of this useless information will likely be cut from the final version of this story and should never be uttered in any language again.

Jim arrived at the surgeon's office at three o'clock. His appointment was at three fifteen, so they would be forced to experience the waiting room for fifteen minutes.
They signed in at the front desk and sat down in one of the chairs. Only one other person was in the waiting room. He was a thin man with an interesting facial hair pattern and a small mouth but fat lips. He fidgeted uncomfortably every minute or so, before sticking his hand in his pants.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting in the lobby/waiting room/public bathroom they were called in. Dr. Quazipuke was in a room with a bed thing with paper on it so the cooties didn't spread. There were a couple of stools, a counter with a sink and some stool samples, and a tray with some instruments of torture.

"Hello. I am Doctor Quazipuke. Today we'll be looking at this bone cyst and determining if you need surgery or not. Now, we won't have to cut you open just yet. I can tell what it is just by feeling your chin."

"Umm...okay," said Jim.
Quazipuke put on a pair of latex gloves and grasped Jim's chin.

"Hmm...there definitely is something there...Certainly hollow...Filled with fluid..." he said in an occupied voice. "I think we are going to have to perform surgery. Don't worry though, it should be very quick. All we have to do is make an incision, drill a small hole in the cyst, and suck the fluid out!"

"Oh. All right then. Let's get this over with," said Jim. So they injected his chin with a secret painkilling drug and began the process. After about fifteen minutes of careful surgery, Dr. Quazipuke said, "Oh. That's not normal. It—it seems to be porous and...well...pulsating. What is this?"

"Umm...is this something that I should be concerned about?" asked Jim nervously.
"Well...I'm not sure. This—this thing—it's not human. It seems...alien."
Suddenly the sac ripped open and a tiny being crawled from the womb.

"Merciful Neptune! What is this abomination?!" screamed Dr. Quazipuke.
The creature leapt into his mouth and ate him from the inside out. Jim got up and, in his drug induced half-consciousness, stumbled out the door and escaped into the waiting room.

"Aagh! Eberybody wun! Dere is a munster on de loose!" He flapped his arms around in warning. Everybody stood up and started yelling and running around, as if it would protect them from the horror.

The creature found its way into the lobby. It had grown twice its original size since it ate Dr. Quazipuke. It searched around for a helpless victim who didn't take a good course on surviving sudden alien attacks.

One man had a magazine placed over his face and he was curled up in the middle of the lobby. The alien gave the magazine a good stare and it evaporated, exposing the man to the cruel wilderness. He was rudely grabbed by the nose and carried away.
"I think he was in the wrong place," said some guy.

"Yeah. I don't think it was an orthodontist he needed."
"But did you see its teeth? They were hideous!"

"Does it matter? What if he goes on a reckless rampage across town?"
"Wait—where am I?"

"Yeah, we should try and stop it before it kills everybody!"
"Why do I feel like I've done this before?" said Kevin.

It turned out the drug was fairly short-term, so it wore off quickly and pain seeped into Jim's chin like water into a sponge. There was still an open cavity where the egg had been growing. This must be repaired before some sort of infection sunk in, like all the professional doctors would tell you.

So hence this event aroused some complications that must be righted. First, how did an egg manage to grow itself inside Jim's chin. Secondly, what is this alien doing here and what does it want? And last, how could this spawn of Satan be stopped before it took over the world?

"Buying some gauze eh? Whaddya plan on doin with it?" asked the cashier, periodically glancing at the gaping pit in Jim's chin.

"Are you...authorized to ask me that?" said Jim, who wasn't familiar with the bold responsibilities of the cashier and what they were capable of doing.
"Is that a threat?"

"Well...no. I mean...why do you care?"

"I...uhh...just noticed that you seem to have some kind of...dent...in your...jaw."
"I don't see why you should judge my buying decisions based on my facial features."
The cashier sighed. "Yeah...never mind. That'll be $1.50."
So Jim purchased this gauze and then bandaged his wound, after cleaning it of course. Now that that was taken care of, he decided he would talk to a few of his friends about hunting down a maniac alien. But he didn't know that a new development had been made in the investigation that followed the Ortho Incident.
He turned on the news in case the alien had already been killed or captured.
"And now we go to Beck Feckinridge, our extraterrestrial relations expert. Beck?"
"What? Yep...uhh...so it seems that the alien has found a way to breed. Recently another alien was spotted near the Timmiestown dump. No information has been released on how the creature reproduces and how many children one will have, but if they can breed here, getting rid of them will be a whole lot harder in a few weeks."

Jim knocked on Willison's door. He heard violent thumping from within the house, before Willison's mom opened the door.

"Oh hey Jim! Willison is up in his room." she said. Jim headed up the stairs to Willison's room. He knocked on the door.

"Come in!" yelled Willison from within. Jim walked in and gasped.
"Darn! You taped yourself to the wall again?" he exclaimed.
"Yeah. This time I was trying to tie my shoes. Can you help me down?"
Jim freed Willison from his restraints.

"Hey dude, listen. Um, you wanna hunt down some aliens? They're kinda on the loose and I need some help."

"Golly gee! Would I? I'll gather up some weapons right now!" he went to his closet and pulled out a baseball bat, a rubber beating chicken, some grenades, (only, they were the dumb generic Hannaford's kind) and a rather large flamethrower.
"Smashing! Who else should we get?"

"Hmm...well, Hordenburg is pretty good with explosives, and Fiblybob is a great guy when it comes to hunting down things that smell like poop."
"Alright, I'll tell them. We've gotta get as many people as possible if we want to succeed." said Jim.

Over the next three days Jim gathered everyone he could who was willing to try and stop this creature before it was too late. They had ten people who were going to fight with them, so Jim decided that they should start the operation now before the situation got any worse.

"Okay, the local news station said that another alien had been spotted by the Timmiestown dump, so I think we should start there and fan out until we find where they are hiding." It had been five days since the Ortho Incident and no new reports of new aliens had surfaced. If the new aliens had bred, they would encounter some trouble.

They arrived at the dump late at night. It seemed abandoned and uninhabited. The aliens had probably migrated to a more suitable climate. The hills of dump concealed the rest of the dump and didn't allow for a far line of sight. An advantageous spot for an ambush. The team spread out in groups of two. They were connected on a walkie-talkie channel, ready to alert the rest if any hostile was encountered.

Team Echo was supposed to scour the northeast side of the dump. The two rubber beating chicken-armed children made their way through the garbage-constructed maze, meandering through the rubbish-assembled labyrinth, every step could mean their end. All of a sudden they heard a strange noise, like a newborn baby seeing Big Bird from Sesame Street take a dump in the middle of the street in broad daylight while someone filmed it and planned to put it on the Internet, claiming it was teaching you the alphabet. They turned a corner and saw an alien crouching over a pile of goo, stroking it gently. A small hand outstretched from the muck, reaching for its parental figure. The larger alien pulled it out. A hideous being emerged, coated in a thick layer of sludge. Its eye met one of the kid's from Team Echo. It proceeded to squeal and shriek with a ferocious intensity they had never encountered.

One kid from Team Echo grabbed his walkie-talkie. "Hey...uhh...guys...there's something here...Yep...No, it's definitely trying to...yep, it's eaten the other guy...no, wait...he's been pooped out...he's still alive...certainly...alright...it's been nice talking with you...oh yeah...uhh...we might need some help here." The alien roared and smacked the communications device from the feeble and vulnerable hand of the kid not covered in poop. He raised his rubber beating chicken, prepared to strike. The alien saw the chicken and elongated his tongue, panting like a furry animal. This could be used to an advantage. The kid (He actually doesn't have a name) threw the chicken over the fence. The alien attempted to bark, then leapt over the fence, pursuing the chicken as if it were his life long goal.

The kid went over to the other kid and swept away some of the dung. "Why'd he eat me if he was only going to poop me out? I mean, did he get any nutrients from that?" said the kid.

"I'm not too sure myself. Let us carry out the mission and not dwindle on this deranged subject that plagues our minds."
"I concur with this statement."

The rest of the group arrived there and they hopped over the fence where the alien had fled. They ran straight forward. The alien wouldn't be too far from them. After a few minutes of running, a strange scent floated through the nostrils of the team. They followed the scent until they came upon a ditch in which the three aliens had taken refuge. They noticed the approaching squad and threw their dung over at them with pinpoint accuracy. It smelled so bad that they all passed out. When they woke up they all had eggs in their chins.