That Old Sack

First, Sam drops the mouldy potatoes into the old sack she found under the sink. They fall out, good as new. Shiny. Restored.

Then she tries it with the over ripe bananas. They’re almost green when she pulls them out.

It doesn’t take long for the plan to form.

“Darling, can you come in here?” She calls. Her husband stomps in. Bald spot. Fat belly. Sagging man boobs. No longer a stallion. Only an ass.

“Can you check if there is anything at the bottom of this?” She shoves the sack at him. He reaches deep, checking each nuke and cranny, and she hauls it over his head. She isn’t sure he’ll fit, especially with all the struggling, but eventually she closes it around his legs.

After a few seconds for it to do it’s magic, she opens the draw strings and out steps her tall, dark and handsome stud. Just like when she met him twenty years ago with his long hair and sexy eyes. Not to mention the pecks.

“Who are you?” He asks.

“I’m your wife,” She says.

He looks her up and down. Scrunches up his face. Yes, she’s not twenty-five anymore but she’s fared better than he had.

He disagrees.

He shoves her in the bag and shakes her around for good measure. What comes out of the bag is more to his taste.

They barely have time to dump the bag under the sink before they run up to their bed. They should be more careful with something so old. Almost as old as them. No wonder they always lose it for twenty years.

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