Jellyfish Sting
Barbara! Barb, come quick! I'm hurt. I need your help. Oh, thank God you're here. I just stepped on a jellyfish, and it stings like crazy. You need to pee on my foot to stop the pain. Can you do that for me, Hon?
What? Whad'ya mean, “Why?” Because I'm your husband, and I've been stung by a jellyfish; that's why. Please, just hurry up and pee on my foot. It burns like a sonofabitch.
No, this is not some trick to get you to pee on me. I'm serious; I'm in a lot of pain here. You've never heard about jellyfish stings? The only relief is if you tinkle on my foot. It’s the left one. Quick. The acetic acid in human urine helps mitigate the chemical compounds in the nematocysts of the mid-Pacific box jellyfish.
Wikipedia? No, that does not sound like something I memorized off Wikipedia. I just happen to know important facts about Nature. Stop stalling and pee on me. I'm serious. This has nothing to do with all the other times I've tried to get you to pee on me.
First off, I'm not really into that anymore. You said no a dozen times, and I let it go. I even sent back the rubber sheets I got online.
Secondly, have I even mentioned you peeing on me in the shower lately? No, I haven't. I've been very careful not to bring it up for the past three and a half weeks. Which should be plenty of time to forget my former obsession with pee play. (Or "watersports" as it's sometimes called.) This isn't some elaborate ruse to trick you into some sort of sexy golden shower scenario.
I'm telling you, Barbara, I've been stung by a poisonous jellyfish. Now, you've got to pee on your husband! Right now! Here, on my right foot.
Oh shit, did I say left foot earlier? I meant right foot. You know what? You'd better pee on both of them just to be safe.
Barb! Barbara, come back! Where are you going ... Barb?
