Shelly was walking through her living room and her husband began yelling at her, “Hey Shelly can you give me a hand with his? Hey Shelly, you can’t touch this! Hey Shelly! Don’t I look handsome?”

Shelly looked down at her two nubs for hands and tried to figure out why her husband, Don, was mad at her now. Ever since she accidentally bit her hands off brushing her teeth Don was never the same. He would mock her all the time by pretending to eat his hands and asking, “Who am I?”

From time to time he would also leave videos on how to properly brush your teeth on the computer for Shelly to find.

One day while she was sleeping he duct taped two washcloths to her nubs and said, “Now you never have to stop washing dishes.”

But Shelly was in love, sort of. Plus she also had no arm ends. But what she did have was a book titled, ‘How to Get Revenge With or Without Hands.’ She had to pick this book up but she couldn’t so someone else did. Shelly devised a plan. She still had her rotten hands in a shoebox under her bed. They would be critical in her revenge.

Shelly was walking through the kitchen waiting for the right moment. Then while Don was telling her to sniff his handlebar mustache she seized the opportunity. With the quickness of a cheetah breath she kicked up a rotted hand with her right foot and caught it in her mouth. Then she struck a match with her left foot on the oven and used it to light an M-80 lodged inside the rotted hand. Once the fuse was lit she spit the hand out and kicked it directly into Don’s mouth. Then she ran out of the house as his head exploded.

As the neighbors gathered around, Shelly stood outside mocking Don.
“My god what’s that smell? A rotten foot? No motherfucker! Revenge.”


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