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Lima Beans

  As lesbian pirate traditions call for, horror stories were swapped while the moon grew high over their landlocked ship. Shipmate Bunny had just finished yarning about her latest brush with death when Rosie began her most bone-chilling tale. Eyes flickering, in a soft, shy voice she began, “Lima beans and I have a history. And it’s not pretty. In fact, if I had to admit it, those damn beans scare the hell out of me! They’re strange and they just don’t look right. When purple, green, red, and orange were handed out to vegetables, lima beans musta overslept. That’s how they got stuck with puce—not really green and not really yellow—just puce.”

  “Ah! Shit! It’s the damn lima beans again, I swear this story gives me gas,” Master Gunner Bunny barked as she farted.

  “Shush Bunny! You know, I’ve found lima beans distasteful from my start. When I was a kid, if I found a pile on my dinner plate? YUCK! I’d sneak those beans up my nose instead of eating them. Mom musta thought I had some sort of legume love. That woman started making lima beans for dinner three times a week!” Rosie shuddered, “Anyway, believe it or not, I was an agreeable kid. I’d sit quietly listening to the small talk and hide those limas bean-by-bean, alternating between nostrils. One really, really horrible night—and here’s the scary part—Mom kept heaping pile after pile of limas onto my plate. By the time the meal was finished, I had an entire pot of lima beans up my nose!”

  “A whole pot dearie?” Esmeralda pretended she hadn’t heard the story before.

  “Oh yes! An entire pot of lima beans! And let me tell you, getting a pot of lima beans out of your nose is very, very difficult . . . more than a few slid down my throat.” Rosie shuddered again as bile rose into her throat. Goose pimples rippled across her skin, and she paused long enough to give ’em a good lick. Smacking her lips, Rosie finished, “Imagine those puce beans sliding down my esophagus—it fixed me—that’s when I gave up food altogether.”

  “LIAR!” Bunny garbled. “You got a diet—of fingernails, toenails, hair strands, earwax, cuticles—by God, you eat everything that can be nibbled, picked, plucked, sucked or slurped off your own body!”

  "Mmmmm . . ." Munching on the crunchy tidbits of her fingernails, Rosie moaned with satisfaction.

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