Fore-skin and Seven Years Ago
A movie called Foreskin and Seven Years Ago. Just kidding, it wouldn’t be called that. That’s a horrible pun that doesn’t make any sense.
Whatever the title, it would be about a guy who has felt incomplete all of his adult life because he was shorn of his foreskin as a young kid. He sees people whose limbs have been blown off - armless people, legless people, people whose appendixes have been taken out - and he can relate.
You know that joke about the naked woman on the bench with no arms or legs who has sex with the other characters in the joke? He never thought that joke was funny because it was all too horribly true. Every morning he stares at a photo of himself as a baby when he still had a foreskin. To him, this week of having a foreskin as a baby was the best time of his life.
“I am not a whole person,” he repeats to himself every day.
His girlfriend finds this kind of obnoxious because she loves him so much, and doesn’t see why he should be obsessed with something so superficial.
To him, she just doesn’t get it. Then hears about a variety of devices that help circumsized men create a fake new foreskin. For the first time, he sees hope on the horizon. “I’m going to become a whole person again!” he exclaims to his love.
Just between you and me, this is a foolish thought; how can he become physically complete by simply shifting pieces of himself around? Doesn’t that show that he was always complete all along?
Sorry to editorialize.
So he tries a bunch of wacky devices, setting off metal detectors at the airport and what not. Finding the right device and achieving the perfect foreskin becomes a dangerous obsession, both physically and psychologically. And he knows that even when he has one he won’t be completely satisfied because what he really wants is the unachievable, his origianal foreskin back.
Having gone through all the devices, he’s about to have surgery that makes a foreskin out of skin from his ass, and his girlfriend just can’t take it anymore.
“You’re not yourself anymore” she exclaims.
“I’ve never been myself,” he shoots back. “Not since…”
“I know, I know!” she shouts, having heard this conversation a thousand times. “You haven’t been yourself since they chopped it off! Your first week of life, that was the real you. You wish you were a baby, Matt! (his name is Matt, I just decided.) Well, I can’t be with a baby! You can go discover yourself without me. Become a real person through one small patch of skin, if that’s what makes all the difference to you. Because you know what? That never mattered to me. What matters is right here.” She lightly shoves him on the heart. Then she walks away.
And that’s when he realizes that it’s not a foreskin he needs to complete himself. It’s her.
But it’s too late, The End.
Unless you can think of a happier ending.
6 years ago