The Situationship

by Abby Jimenez

Someone had drawn chalk dicks on the bike path. Every hundred feet or so—dick. They’d carved them into the bark of the trees too. It was a penis scavenger hunt and I was here for it.

He stared at me. “This pig is a celebrity.” “Riiiiight,” I said, feigning interest. “Look, I gotta go. I’m looking for dick graffiti. Nice seeing you.”

“You will not murder me. I will murder you,” I said. “And I’ll cover you in honey so the pig eats your body and they’ll never find you. So is there still a Dick Rock? Or are we saying goodbye now?”

I sent Emma a message that said, “Going with Doug to see a dick rock. If I disappear, I’m burying a body and I’ll be home by dinner.”

My phone pinged. It was Emma. Emma: Daniel said he just got a text from Doug saying he’s taking you to Dick Rock and if he goes missing it was you who killed him ??? I gave the message a satisfied smirk and put my phone away.

He held a large branch back and revealed a clearing that ended against a bluff. In the middle of the thirty-foot rock wall, in pink and green spray paint, was the largest dick of the day. Doug stepped aside and presented it to me. “Dick Rock.”

The five- or six-foot phallus was framed with glued-on bottle caps, pennies, and hundreds of colorful wadded-up pieces of chewed gum.

“It’s not an insult. He’s this little bantam chicken. Russell Crow. Really beautiful but mean. He attacks me every morning when I come in the yard.”

“Let me finish. That guy’s my little buddy. I love him. He’s just protective. He’s taking care of his family. And he’s mostly mean when he’s hungry.” He paused. “Are you hungry?” he asked carefully. I was hungry.

“You said you have a petting zoo?” I asked. “Yeah.” “What’s in it? A bunch of tiny cocks?” “Russell Crow’s the only tiny cock on my farm.”