“Doc—I don’t have any hands! Well, that’s not quite right—I can feel them, but I can’t see them.”

“What have you been doing with your hands?”

“Nothing—I swear, Doc!”

“Are you sure?”

“Well—I got latrine duty, again, and when I went into the officer’s crapper, I discovered a mummy.”

“A mummy?”

“Yeah. It was wrapped in what looked to be toilet paper.”

“I see. Did you discover a body?”

“No.”

“Well, if there wasn’t a body, it can’t be a mummy. This happens after severe indigestion. A big wad of toilet paper collects in a hole, due to over-wiping. Some of our officers want to pretend their shit doesn’t stink, so they wipe extra clean. Come to my office in one hour.”

“Okay, Doc.”

“And Max…”

“Yes…?”

“Wash your hands.”

I got a knock on my door.

Max barged in.

“Doc—I can see my hands!”

“Okay. When did that happen?”

“When I washed them.”

I was trying to understand Max’s defense mechanism. Did he do something dirty, and when he was done, the cleansing water washed away his sin?

“You are obviously suffering from a psycho-somatic illness due to your repressed sexual desires that you have acted upon, and then tried to cover up.”

“Doc, no disrespect, but I don’t think that’s it at all.”

“Oh… What do you think it is, then?” I gave him my all-knowing look of condescending superiority.

“It has something to do with this toilet paper I took-off the invisible mummy. See.” He pulled the dressings from his pocket. I could see that it wasn’t Scott’s or Charmin.

His hands vanished.

“There must be a chemical on those dressings that makes your hands invisible. Here, let’s have you wash.” He used my sink and his hands became visible again.

“Fascinating,” I said.

To be continued…

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