Bunga And The Birth Of The First Butt-Baby
by Matt Ferretti
-----
From the DT&R archives we find a story about a cruel playground joke that went horribly wrong, resulting in the deaths of 6-to-12 children from their own horrible shame.
-----
(from the archives)
“I was so naïve as a kid I used to sneak behind the barn and do nothing.” - Johnny Carson
From the day that I popped my first erection, I knew something was up. I was never a dumb kid. If I didn’t know the answers, I’d get creative and invent my own. Everyone has their own story, their own preconceived notions about sex early on. For some, the big reveal may have come in the form of a talk with Dad or Mom, possibly involving some book mentioned at monthly PTA meetings. Others may have walked in on their older brother, sister or parents “wrestling” naked or “kissing” a body part. For me, the loose bits of information I had lined up by the 3rd grade, all came together through a simple, not-funny-at-all joke:
“How many humps does a camel have?”
“As many humps as the male camel gives her.”
Once I heard the joke I, sadly, needed it explained to me. “Holy shit, of course! Key and lock.”
Soon afterward I had a sense that there was some moaning involved. Odd. To me moaning was saved for ghosts on Scooby-Doo, for people on their death beds or for tummy aches. Pleasure hadn’t factored into it for me. So, to explain the moaning I put together the following: When a man and a woman wanted to have a child, the man laid on top of her. The moaning was due to the pain, which came when his entire testicle passed through his urethra (pee-pee hole) and into her vagina (wu-wu). How’d I get around the fact that many families had more than two children? Simple: testicles grew back after a while. Duh.
As time wore on, I began to realize that as sharp and creative as I was, there was just no way to make up this sex stuff. Well over half of my hunches were not only wrong, but bordering on the criminal. Figuring that someone else knew more than I did, I decided I had to learn more. I scoured encyclopedias, National Geographic magazines, found porn, anything for more insight. When I emerged I was somewhat learned but far from enlightened. There were still holes in my logic.
The Birth of the Butt-Baby
Somewhere along the line I became a bit of a bully. If you were my friend you were “in”. If you were my enemy, chances are I could either talk you out of kicking my ass or outrun you. Every so often though, someone would fall into a category somewhere in between: We weren’t quite friends, we didn’t hate each other, but chances were you annoyed the piss out of me for some reason or other. A boy named Dion fell into this category.
Dion had a big ol’ lumpy chicken head with teeth that weren’t quite buck, yet they stuck out way further than they should have. He always wore big Cosby sweaters and had this sort of “please-kick-my-ass” kind of walk. As goofy as the fucker was (by no means would these traits alone bring out my bully wrath) what ultimately pulled my trigger was his brown-nosing-goody-goody-chicken-head-cocked-back-while-he-laughed-so-his-fucked-up-teeth-did-a-sort-of-hee-haw-kind-of-thing-inevitably-spraying-spittle- everywhere-within-a-five-foot-radius demeanor. Fuck that shit!
Two pieces of playground equipment that we named were the Hunga and the Bunga. The Hunga was a red dome-like structure with portholes throughout. Leading up to the dome were ladder-like constructions. The Bunga was nearly the same thing, but inverted, making it a bit of a bowl. We preferred the Bunga because the Hunga simply wasn’t exclusive enough. The problem with the Hunga was any snot nose freak could climb up onto it and perch there. The Bunga, on the other hand, had seats, two to be exact; seats that Jay, Steve and I took up as thrones, alternating who played the role of the king. From these thrones we could overlook the masses, judge, jest, and ultimately conquer our elementary school insecurities.
One fine day, Dion, of all fellows, wandered near the Bunga. He called up to us “Hey guys…can I come up and hang out?” Being a decent lad I shouted “Of course.” I allowed him to take my seat (throne) and assumed a rather uncomfortable place on a cushion-less corner of the Bunga. The boy was honored. Little did he know admission was never free.
For some reason that day, like most days, Dion irritated the shit out of me. As such, I had to mess with him. At this point my comrades and I were blending our encyclopedia-based knowledge of sex data with our ever-expanding sick sense of humor. This was war. Sink the geek. Simple as that.
The first salvo came in the form of the question, “So Dion, do you know how babies are made?” His answer was right on. “Um…of course. A man puts his penis into a woman’s vagina.” Satisfactory enough, but a bit technical for my palate; I would’ve used potty words myself. Ok next question: “Dion, do you know what a blowjob is?” He sat there for a while racking his brain, shaking his big head left and right trying to jostle an answer out of it. Ah, blowjob wasn’t in our textbooks was it buck face? “Um…is that like necking, but you blow on someone instead?” he squeaked. We three judges/jury/executioners exchanged glances and gave him the dirt. His eyes widen and he looks down at his crouch and then back at us, bewildered. “Dion, do you know what going down on a girl is?” He didn’t have a chance and even if he did, we certainly weren’t about to give it to him, we were running out of time. The recess bell would ring soon and the best was yet to come. “Eating out a girl? Dion, just guess.” Silence. “C’mon Dion. Give up?” More silence. “It’s the opposite of a blowjob.” He makes a face like he just ate a lemon. Last question, “Dion, do you know what anal sex is?” Nope. We tell him, but it’s simply not enough for my stupid bully mind. It’s then that I unleash one of the cruelest statements ever to cross my lips:
“Dion, your Dad was so stupid that he stuck it in your Mom’s ass by mistake and guess what? You’re a Butt Baby. You were born out of your Mom’s ass. That’s why your head is all big, misshapen and dented.”
Immediately Dion tried to discredit my claim, but I came back with details regarding the shape of his head and how it pointed to the unmistakable proof that he was, in fact, a Butt Baby. The look on the lad’s face when he accepted his genesis was both sad and rewarding. Guilt is a useless emotion.
Needless to say my penance came the next day. My bus number was called and, backpack in tow, I booked toward the exit. Three quarters of the way down the hall my flight was thwarted. A huge adult hand reached out of the ether, snatched the corner of my Member’s Only jacket and hurled me against the wall like the sack of shit that I was (am). It was Dion’s Mom.
Venom spat from her Portuguese mouth, “If you Evvvvver talk to my son like that again, I’ll tell your teachers and your parents and you’ll be expelled. Do you hear me!?!?” I provided nothing short of an honest nod because I nearly crapped my pants. “Yes M’aam,” I replied.
A year later my Mom and I moved to a nearby town. I left behind my band of cohorts, the neighborhood I grew up in, and most importantly my callow ways. Instead of one hot girl that every guy had to compete for, my new school boasted a cornucopia of smart and sophisticated beauties. It was there that after a few false starts I attained lift off and became the near certifiable sex-pert that I am today.
Contrary to my initial musings on copulation, I now know that sex occurs when a man and a woman, man and a man, woman and a woman or any combination in between, get drunk, bump uglies and pray for a clean bill of health in the morning. Masturbation leads to blindness, you can’t get pregnant the first time, women never fake an orgasm, and lastly, “pulling out” is a foolproof way to avoid making babies.
(Dedicated to Jen Kirkman)
-----
Matt Ferretti once told his ex-wife that she was “letting herself go”. She retaliated by cutting off his penis in the middle of the night like Lorena Bobbitt, which worked out nicely since he’s wanted a sex change for years. He decided he will use the money he saved for breasts the size of midgets.
<< Home