Like many Americans, Alfonse Falanga has tried his best to deal with the pandemic. Says the California man; “I’m a private tutor, so when the schools closed I was able to transition to virtual teaching pretty easily. Then, everything went haywire.

“A lump formed on my forehead and it itched like crazy,” says the forty-year-old. “I thought it might be a pimple. So I slathered it with zit cream but it kept on getting bigger. I looked like hell during my Zoom sessions, so I started wearing a hat. One of my students noticed that, during our lesson, my hat started moving on its own. I stared at the screen. Sure enough, my hat was throbbing. Then it began to spin. I ended the session and took off my hat. A large mole had formed on my forehead. Not a skin mole. A real mole. The animal kind.”

Now seated in his Venice bungalow, two months after the discovery, he can laugh about it. “I couldn’t get in to see a dermatologist because of the virus. The earliest I could book an appointment was in three months. Meanwhile, the creature was beginning to really take shape. It made noise, blinked its eyes and mewed. I did some online research and figured out that the critter was hungry.”

Discovering that moles eat a lot of live worms, he contacted a local bait shop and had them deliver ten pounds of live worms. “I love old Jefferson Airplane songs but I’m probably the only fan to actually feed my head. My mole just loved the worms. The only problem was: the more it ate, the bigger it got.”



The movie-mogul father of one of his students arranged for Alfonse to see Dr. Levon Pratt, dermatologist to the stars. Now seated across from Alfonse, Dr. Pratt shakes his head. “I’ve been practicing medicine for twenty years,” he reveals. “I’ve removed moles, warts and cysts of all shapes and sizes. Before Alfonse came in, I think the strangest thing I’ve ever removed was an anal wart big enough to be a third cheek. I’ve never ever removed a growth so cute.”

Once the creature was removed, it screamed in panic. Moles don’t like the light and the dermatologist’s bright office caused a moly meltdown. It flew into the air and down Dr. Pratt’s shirt collar. “It tickled at first but then it worked its way downward, got inside my pants and, eventually, shot up into my derriere.”

The two men panicked, with Dr. Pratt launching into a series of impromptu breakdance moves. Alfonse called the helpful movie mogul and was told to call Dr. Manny Poker, proctologist to the stars.

Seated across from Alfonse and Pratt, Dr. Poker extends a latex-gloved hand. “Call me Manny,” he says. “I’m the most discreet ass man in Hollywood. You wouldn’t believe the stuff I’ve pulled out of expensive asses; all sorts of toys, gerbils and a garden hose. I’m used to doing house calls but to go to another doctor’s office to remove a live mole from a butt? I couldn’t resist.”



Continues Poker, “It wasn’t an easy situation. The mole was still cartwheeling inside Dr. Pratt. I didn’t want to run the risk of driving it further up the ass. I also didn’t want to hurt the mole. Fortunately, Alfonse had a box of worms with him. I carefully placed a few worms in half-assed positions and allowed the animal to make its way down the poop chute. We shut off all the lights and I placed more worms along the good doctor’s cheeks. Eventually, the mole emerged, just munching away.

“We put it inside the box of worms and my job was done. I might even write a paper for  Proctology Today magazine.”

But what of the mole? “I brought it home with me. My daughter put it in our garden. She even named it ‘Stinky.’”

The three men chuckle over their shared experience. Alfonse suddenly stands, takes his shirt off and turns his back towards the two doctors. “Does this look like a wombat to you?”

By the time he faces his guests, the two doctors are out the front door and halfway down the street, screaming.

Source link

Leave a Reply