Mind Over Bladder

“Micheal, your CAT scan results are… alarming to say the least, so I’ll just give it to you straight. You have no brain.” Micheal stared at Dr. Miller and then smirked.

“That’s a joke, right? Use it all the time on people?” Dr. Miller shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid this is quite serious. The results show that, excluding the portions that controls autonomic functions and the brain stem, your “reptile brain” if you will, your skull, Micheal, is mostly open space.” Micheal was more confused than worried or scared by the doctor’s statement, probably due to how ludicrous it still sounded despite his grave manner.

“So what’s in it then, doc?”

“From what we can tell, mostly cerebral fluid and several fleshy cords anchoring what is there to the interior of your skull, keeping it stable.” Micheal looked at Dr. Miller. Dr. Miller looked at Micheal.

Cut to wide-shot: Micheal continues to stare at Dr. Miller. The doctor stared back.

“So… where is my brain, doc? I mean, I have to be running on something, don’t I?”

“We’ll be running more tests to determine just that,” said Dr. Miller, “as your case is unprecedented in medical literature. There are many defects that cause malformation of the brain but there’s no record of anyone presenting with both your level impairment and complete cognitive function.”

Dr. Miller and his team probed Micheal with all of their mechanical senses. An MRI and an ultrasound finally provided the answer to Micheal’s wayward gray matter. “Well I can’t say that this sort of thing has ever been documented but your higher brain has somehow developed in your abdominal cavity.”

“You mean like in my guts, doc?” Micheal asked, making a face. Dr. Miller continued.

“More specifically, each hemisphere is attached to one of your kidneys and cushioned by a layer of fat.” Micheal scrunched the corner of his mouth.

“Guess that’s why I’ve always had to deal with these super “love-handles”, though now that it’s on my mind that would explain why I always do my best thinking in the shower.”

“Why would that be?” asked Dr. Miller.

“Well, I pee in there.”

If you don’t enjoy puns or Dad jokes, get off my lawn.

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