Thirty-five and Gorgeous

He awoke with fresh breath,
a sparkle on his bright,
white teeth, coiffed hair

and a gleam in his eye.
He went to do  stomach
exercises and realized his

abs were washboard hard.
After dressing, he quaffed
a glass of freshly squeez-

ed orange juice, drank an
extra smooth smoothie and
downed a cup of gourmet

coffee. As he opened the
door to take a ride in his
state of the art electric

sports car he encountered
an inferno. “Welcome home,”
stated the sinister voice.

“Wait a minute, if I’ve
died and I am thirty-five
and incredibly gorgeous,

isn’t this supposed to be
my just eternal reward?
“You are and this is.”

With that he awoke with a
start and headed to the
bathroom for relief. He

stared into the mirror
which reflected back his
bald, seventy-three-year-

old head and a face of
wrinkles and bags. He
breathed a sigh of relief.

While brushing his teeth
with foamy paste dripping
down his chin, he mumbled

and laughed, “Good morning,
handsome.” “Did you just
say something, dear?”

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