Bacon-Loving Eyeball

“Excuse me, sir, but would you happen to have a strip of bacon I could munch on?”

Carl Carlson was unsure where this request had been requested from. Following his ear deceived him for the source was not to his left, right, forward, backward, or even up. However, the sixth time was a charm, and there to his down laid an eyeball.

“I don’t mean to impose, sir,” the eyeball politely assured, “But I’ve been hungry for quite a while now.”

“You’re an eyeball,” Carl Carlson observed. ”What’s an eyeball doing with an appetite?”

The eyeball blushed at this and rolled from side to side, as if avoiding a confession. “Well, sir… You see, there are these friends I’ve always wanted to hang out with, but I never get invited to their parties. I hear that they eat bacon all the time, so maybe if I—”

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but you’re just an eyeball,” Carl asserted. ”You don’t have a mouth or even a digestive tract. You’ll never be able to eat anything.”

The eyeball looked toward the ground, as if ashamed of its confession. ”I’m sorry for bothering you, sir,” it said ruefully.

But Carl Carlson had already walked off. The eyeball laid there and softly wept, growing red with each passing tear.

“YOU!” clamored a commanding voice. The eyeball looked up to see a police officer.

”You’re a bloodshot eye. You on grass, asshole?”

“No!” the eyeball quickly admitted. “I just want a strip of bacon.”

“You’re higher than a fucking kite,” the officer declared in a gruff whisper. ”You’re coming with me.”

And so the eyeball spent the night at jail. He was later tried and found guilty to be in possession of hundreds of pounds of marijuana, even though the eyeball had no hands. It went to prison where every day it watched people getting raped. All it wanted to do was get raped…