Wednesday, April 2, 2014

True Stories of The Retinal Trail



Johnny looked in the mirror for the third time. “Damn!” he said for the third time; “my eyeball looks like a red licorice factory! There must be something blooming. I guess I’m gonna have to use antihistamine eye drops again.”

As Johnny leaned his head back and squirted liquid into his aqueous humor, it began to rain in a little town called Pupil.


The stagecoach was a-comin into Pupil, as fast as it could go considering the downpour. Dan Tears, the coach driver, was shoutin’ somethin’ fierce as he pulled back on his reins and stopped his team before the door to the office of Pupil’s constable.

“Sheriff!” he cried; “Sheriff Cornea, come quick! I seen somethin’ terrible out Schlemm way!”

“You aint been on the sauce agin have ya” Matt Cornea replied as he sauntered from his anterior chamber; “You look a might welled up boy!”

On another day, Tears may have taken offense, but at this particular juncture he was far too excited to notice Matt’s friendly poke.

“No sir” he demanded, “I aint had no carrot juice fer a long time Mr. Cornea. This here country is going to the dogs what with all the fast food’s been ingested lately. Why purty soon there won’t be a vita mine left for miles and miles!”

Sorry he had interrupted Tears, as the driver had a tendency to run on and on once he’d been given the green light, the sheriff waved his hands to get the driver's attention. “So what’s all this fuss about Tears” he said. “Don’t tell me Miss Choroid and her ladies of suspect character have been bathin’ in the Canals of Schlemm again!”

Tears thought for a moment, trying to visualize a pack-o-cat house ladies swimmin’ nekkid, but he just didn’t have the ductwork to conjure imagery. Tears was all about fallin’, not spyin’.

“No sir” he said, “I’d just spilled over the Redrim Canyon and there I seen two strangers comin’ down the Retinal trail. One was a mean lookin’ feller, dressed all in black and he was walkin’ all sneaky like too! And the other one was even meaner lookin! So I rides up to them and asks’ em who they was, all neighborly like. “

Cornea’s patience was wearing laser thin. “Alright Tears, calm down. Jis tell me the strangers’ names and we can get on with business.”

Dan Tears spoke softly, as if hoping no one else besides the sheriff would hear. “The mean one” he whimpered, “he said his name was Doctor Diabetes!” A shiver ran through Cornea as Tears continued to stream. "And the other one, the meaner one… he called hisself Rodrigo Glaucoma!”

Normally more than a bit convex, the sheriff straightened right up at the sound of that name.

“Well crap” he exclaimed; “Doc Diabetes and The Glaucoma Kid! I been tryin’ to get Colonel Autoimmune to reject the advances of Cap’n Crunch and Sugar Pops so we wouldn’t need to deal with these fellers, but it’s lookin’ like my plan aint workin’.”

Cornea reached into his lens sack and pulled out a sawed off shotgun and a bandolier filled with insulin shells.

“Get over to the saloon near Iris” he said to Dan as he mounted his trusty steed Sclera and prepared to ride. “Tell the Antibody brothers t’ git their faces outa the bad blood and come and help me fast, and then get back to Lacrimal and protect your wife and droplets. If’n we don’t stop these guys before they pass through Macula, it’ll be all over but the cryin’.”


Johnny was just turning onto Wilshire Boulevard on his commute to work when he suddenly felt a huge pain shoot through his right eye. “What the hell is goin on in there!” he shouted aloud.


“If you only knew buddy boy” Matt Cornea muttered under his breath, as he spurred his horse and galloped off down the Retinal Trail; "if you only knew."

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