Peter's Little Peter

Chub Potion No. 9

It takes Elroy a few days to crunch the data, but when he finally finishes, he says he has some good news.

"I think we can add two, maybe three inches of length to your penis, without surgery," he says. "With any luck, we should also add proportional girth, because the only thing worse than a needle-dick is a pencil-dick."

At the mention of surgery, I look around Elroy's lab for an operating table, but all I see are his monkeys, Colonel Mustard and Rita. It looks like the Skittles have added an inch to Colonel Mustard's waist, and for a moment, I wonder if Elroy's plan is to fatten up my dick with candy? But that thought doesn't last long because I can't quite get the idea of surgery out of my head.

"Are you even qualified to perform surgery?" I ask.

"Qualified, yes. Licensed, no."

Just then Rita shrieks, and a terrible thought crosses my mind.

"Elroy, you're not performing surgery on these animals, are you?"

"Of course not," he says.

"Oh, that's a relief."

"I don't know nearly enough about their physiology to perform surgery," he adds. "My expertise is limited to humans."

That part isn't a relief. In fact, it's terrifying.

"You wouldn't consider a surgical option, even if it means a bigger penis?"

I hadn't considered a surgical option mostly because Elroy isn't a surgeon. But now that we're talking about slicing and dicing my wiener, I find myself crossing my legs and resting my hands over my junk.

"It's just a hypothetical," Elroy says.

"Oh."

A wave of relief washes over me, but I keep my legs crossed and my hands over my junk, just in case.

"I guess I... Well, I don't think I'd do the surgery."

"No? Not even if you knew it would work?"

"I don't know," I say. "It sounds painful."

"It's very painful."

"And there would be scars," I say.

"Chicks dig scars."

"Not on your penis," I say.

"How do you know?"

"I guess I don't."

"So what's the objection to surgery?" Elroy presses.

"I don't know... I guess it just seems a little extreme."

"Extreme. Fascinating."

Elroy makes some notes on his tablet. Then he asks, "So as much as you want a bigger penis, there are limits to how far you're willing to go to get it?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Meaning that if surgery were the only option, you'd just have to learn to live with a small dick?"

"Yeah, is that so bad?"

"Not at all," Elroy says. "Like I said the first time we met, there's no judgment from me. This is purely scientific. But I find it fascinating that, on the one hand, you say the size of your penis determines your happiness, but on the other hand, you've set a hard limit what you'd be willing to do to change your situation."

"I said the size of my penis determines my happiness?"

Elroy holds up the tablet and says, "In so many words you did. Peter, before we proceed I need you to understand two things."