Tarzan's Tripes Forever, and Other Feghoots

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A Medical Mystery

Category: Puns, Rated PG-13

This tale is by Terry Morrison, author of “Mattress-ide and Other Grammatical Atrocities”.


The patient was face down on the bed while four doctors with a combined total of 81 years medical experience, examined his upraised buttocks.

In spite of all their training, the best they could come up with were comments like “I’ve never seen anything like it,” and “Beat’s me,” and “It must make life very uncomfortable for you, Mr. Higgenbottom.”

Higgenbottom managed a muffled hiss into a big, fluffy pillow. Four other equally fluffy pillows were responsible for his buttocks jutting heavenward at such an embarrassing angle.

Out of the corner of one eye, Higgenbottom glimpsed a flash of latex.

One of the doctors had hauled on a rubber glove and unceremoniously grabbed a handful of Higgenbottom’s swollen behind. This produced a muffled howl from the pillow.

“What do you make of it, Bumstead?” asked Dr. Cheeks, who had an irritating habit of addressing his colleagues by only their last names.

Dr. Bumstead, the oldest of the four, looked thoughtful as he took a closer look at the tiny scratch which had apparently been responsible for Higgenbottom’s bottom now being roughly twice its normal size and more closely resembling an overripe purple pumpkin.

“That must be the mother of all rear end infections. Yes, sir, it’s hard to believe such a little scratch could have caused this.” He poked at the cut with the tip of a pen.

Higgenbottom shifted uncomfortably, not at all pleased with his new status as medical marvel.

“Have all the tests been run?” Bumstead asked.

“Yes, and they didn’t turn up anything unusual.”

“Nothing in the bloodstream?”

“Just blood.”

“Most unusual.”

“What, that there is blood in his bloodstream?”

Burnstead ignored the remark. It was the kind of thing you’d expect from the cheeky Cheeks.

“I guess it’s back to the medical books for’this one. We’re going to have to call in a specialist or Higgenbottom might never sit again.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“It’s hard to treat something unless you know what you’re up against,” Burnstead continued. “This is obviously more than an ordinary infection. It looks like a severe case of arse nick poisoning to me.”

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