Do You Even Dookie, Bro?

"The train approaching platform 5 is not for human use; please do not attempt to board this train."

"Oh, that's cool." I reply with a smile. "I'm not human, anyway." I wait, counting the seconds in my mind, for the astounded reaction of my guide.

"It's true", I said, "I come from a middle sized planet that orbits the star you call Alpha Centauri." Then I peeled off my human mask to reveal

my true face. Everyone around me erupted into laughter. "Why does my visage cause this?" I asked. "Dude looks like a butt," crowed a passerby. "What is a butt?" I asked. "Um," my friend hesitated, "the part of the body that we sit on." The passerby added, "It also makes dookie!"

My face then distorted and opened up. I launched shit all over the dinner table and those making fun of me. I went up to my room where I cried from my singular eye/rectum. I enter my balcony and jump.

But, as I tumbled through the air, I suddenly realized with perfect clarity that my eye was not a rectum—that was just a metaphor for toxic masculinity. “Of course!” I laughed. Unfortunately, my jump was all too real. I died as I lived: embarrassed about the mess I was leaving.