Reptile Dysfunction


Suggested Audio Charms 🐍

[1] Charley Pride “The Snakes Crawl At Night”

[2] The Beach Boys “Good Vibrations”

[3] The Garden Of Eden “The Garden Of Eden (Serpent In The Garden Mix)”



S-s-say there, I don’t suppose you’d mind terribly scratching my back would you? I’d do it myself but some crackpot seems to be having a laugh at my sole expense. Not trying to be a dick here (dimensions aside) but I can’t help feeling like a bit of an afterthought on the creation side of things. Presumably the high and mighty architect in question had a few materials left over after fashioning all those pointless dinosaurs and rolled out a few serpents just to keep up his productivity quota. No thought or care went into the design, not once did this slovenly slacker consider how undignified my kind would feel being forced to crawl along on our bellies with no possibility of a leg up. I happen to be rather partial to jazz but do you think they’ll let me in the lounge without a working set of hands to wave gormlessly? Then the proprietors have the audacity to sell snake bite at the bar, while I’m left slithering the shadows in search of wayward sewer rats to painstakingly digest. It’s no fun dislocating your jaw every time you want a snack you know. Pardon my woe wrangling but it s-s-sucks being me.


Feeling sorry for me yet? No of course you aren’t as the primary emotion humans entertain in the presence of snakes is blind fear. Around one in three of you suffer from ophiophobia and would run a mile the very moment we slither onto the scene. Meanwhile, cute little bunnies are considered delightful domestic pets, although anyone who watched Night of The Lepus should be more than aware that rabbits aren’t to be taken at all lightly. The absence of fur appears to be the deciding factor here and it is a common misconception that snakes are slimy creatures when, in truth, I’m simply crying out for some moisturising lotion. You know what else I’m desperate for? Getaway sticks. Rumor has it that we evolved from a four-legged reptilian ancestor about 100 million years ago and it sounds suspiciously like devolution if you ask me. Granted, we never have to concern ourselves with knee replacements later in life and I’ll never know the agony of leg cramps, but neither will I be able to dance the American Smooth or break in a new pair of tap shoes. To be fair, I have the cha-cha slide down to pat, but considering 1/3 of humans suffer from an innate, evolutionary fear of me, finding a partner is as arduous as it is ultimately fruitless.


Do you know how heartbreaking it is to be nominated for best costume design at the 66th Annual Reptilian Academy Awards only to shed your skin the night before the big ceremony? To further compound my misery, Paul Hogan picked up the best actor gong for his crowd-pleasing turn in Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles, while I was escorted off the red carpet and provided a lifetime ban for gate crashing. To be fair, this quarterly makeover does serve me well in the life of petty crime I’ve resorted to in order to make ends meet. Having played a lot of Grand Theft Auto during my reckless youth (no small feat for one lacking opposable thumbs), shedding one’s skin is the equivalent of having your very own Pay ‘N’ Spray on every single street corner. It’s ultimately all about timing, and the very moment I wake up feeling like my one-piece suit doesn’t fit right, I rob a bank or gun down a couple of hood rats just for the sheer hell of it. You see, being vertically challenged has its upsides and, while I may not be able to boast the hydraulic suspension prowess of a lowrider, I’ve always got my ear to the ground in case 5-0 decide to muscle in. That may seem improbable given that I don’t actually possess ears but audio is wired straight up to my jaws, so for me, it’s all about those good vibrations.


I hope by this point you’re beginning to feel a tad uneasy as I clearly have mad stealth skills and can also back that shit up with venom should I see fit to ambush you. Here it becomes fight or flight and opting for the former would ordinarily entail grabbing the nearest available sharp object and popping the champagne cork so to speak. Severing my head may appear to supply that all-important upper hand but were you aware that the decapitated head of a snake can still sink its fangs in hours after death? Any budding headhunters among you may wish to find your trophies elsewhere as I’m not above striking from a wall mounted position the very second you fall for my hypnosis. Had I not mentioned that these snake eyes of mine possess magnetic properties? S-s-sorry if you’re feeling at all s-s-sleepy but just listen to the s-s-sound of my voice and imagine yourself floating weightlessly as I pop this jaw out and s-s-slide you down. The stomach acids will do the rest.


Better yet, we could continue to hang out for a few minutes, although the rules of engagement will have to change some just to be clear. Paul McKenna may think himself a hot-shot when it comes to hypnosis, but I have that knucklehead licked on paralysis and have just the anaesthetic in mind to ensure my audience remains captive. I like to call this tangy little concoction “quietude”. Right now, there’s just enough of this particular numbing agent circulating through your ventricles to stop you in your tracks. Thus I’d suggest finding a nice comfortable upright position as I called in a favor with my old friend Mehmet from New Delhi and he just so happens to be packing his pungi. I figure the least I can do is charm you after disarming you and have been practicing my s-s-sexiest lap dance all week as I feel like s-s-slipping out of my robe tonight for your private delectation. Honey, I’m about to rock your world. Here’s a little ham ‘n’ eggs coming at cha. Mehmet, try to keep up and let’s take that bass line for a walk shall we?


Interesting choice of audio my Punjabi pal. I hadn’t figured you for the acid house type but I guess you guys are a bit behind on your trends and it doesn’t appear that our audience is protesting so “Get right on one matey. Acieed!” Am I turning you on yet? Do my moves defy the laws of gravity? Am I everything you expected and more? How about I slacken these coils some and show you just how persuasive a customer I can be? You ever accommodated ten inches? Well how does ten feet sound? That’s right, I could s-s-slither all up inside you right now and there ain’t a damn thing you could do about it. I won’t of course as it’s far more gratifying watching you silently squirm and I don’t do well in enclosed spaces. I mean, what else am I going to be scared of? Snakes? Why do you think you don’t see many of us on planes and if you suggest Samuel L. Jackson has anything to do with it then I’ll strike you down with a poison so acute that it’ll stop your heart before its next beat. Besides, it’s nice to be able to stretch out and I happen to be a shameless hugger.


I reckon we can generate a fair amount of warmth between us you and I. This is in both our best interests as, while death will be swifter if not altogether painless, I’ll be able to break down those stubborn bones that much faster once the time comes to take things deep throat. I learned my technique from Linda Lovelace and that girl knew how to gargle some game let me tell you. This proposes an acid test for me as the largest mammal I’ve consumed up until now is a stunted mountain goat and I suffered three days of chronic reflux as my penance. It was worth every last wretch just to hear him bleat hopelessly as I cradled him in my coils and whispered nothings into his ear that were some way from sweet. If this seems at all callous then I’d like to inform you that two cowboys fell in love that night beneath the twinkling night stars and it’s down to my exclusive herding skills that they had time on their hands to get all up in each other’s Wranglers. For the record, don’t try pleading that you taste foul as that is one of the sensory five I need not concern myself with. It all tastes like chicken to me. I guess that makes me a cheap date if you’re searching for upsides.


Speaking of which, how would you score my seduction technique thus far on a scale of one to ten? Let’s assume that one means Jessica Tandy and ten means Jessica Rabbit. How silly of me, you have no way of casting your vote. In the absence of any conceivable indicator, I shall award myself a s-s-seven as this still leaves sufficient room for improvement. By my estimations that makes me of Sarah Jessica Parker standards minus the shark fin and I can live with that. After all, I’ve never claimed to be everyone’s poison of choice and accept that I may be required to grow on you. Look away Mehmet as your religion doesn’t take kindly to such fragrant sexual acts and I can feel my skin sliding down as we speak so the time has almost come for me to open wide and guzzle down a fatty. You ever see a snake with a human tail? Well s-s-stick around (like you’ve got a say in that) as I plan to shit you out next week thursday. Just don’t ask me to hold the selfie stick as I’ll take that as mockery and reingest your scrawny butt. Given that no final words are forthcoming, I shall assume you’re primed for the pucker up and proceed with the final phase of my great disappearance trick. Here goes. Remember a moment on the lips is only a lifetime on the hips if you have hips. S-s-sucker.



I like you inside me, each thrust just delights me,
I’ll help where I can with the s-s-suction,
please don’t think me odd or consider me flighty,
as it’s all in the name of s-s-seduction.


Didn’t feel proud to bait cha, it’s just in my nature,
we s-s-snakes can be cunning you s-s-see,
it’s not my fault you have no awareness of danger,
and that’s why you’re coming with me.


Once invited aboard, I’ll provide you free board,
Put you up in the penthouse no less,
I can see you’re unsure and a tad overawed,
so what s-s-say we just let things digest?


This may appear fateful, but I’m dreadfully grateful
for the nutrients you can provide me,
I may be a s-s-snake but I’m not at all wasteful,
aren’t you glad I let you come inside me?




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  1. Another interesting blog, Richard. I actually began to feel sorry for the snake and I am not a fan! I kept on picturing Chris Walken’s The Continental for his voice. I like the POV pieces.

    1. Thank you Susan. I had a lot of fun writing this one. One day soon I plan to record my readings and hopefully put them all on YouTube as I love to perform my work and it has always been my long-term goal to do so on stage. I love that you imagined this in Walken’s voice, it does seem like the ideal voice box.

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