Crazy Ray

Ray lost his first finger when he was seven to an angry mother and a refrigerator door. Sure, his Mom had told him a thousand times (which seemed like a lot, but Ray was pretty sure she had counted) that he couldn't have any more chocolate milk, but he just couldn't help himself. Chocolate milk was like heroin to Ray and the euphoria he felt when that brown liquid slid down to his gut was much the same way junkies feel when they tie off and shoot up. So that thousandth time he was rebuffed and went for the chocolate milk anyway...well, his Mom had had enough. To teach him a lesson she decided to slam his hand in the door. Only Ray decided this was a bad idea and yanked his hand away...almost in time to avoid injury.

At the hospital later on the surgeon said "Well, look at the bright side, son! At least it's only your pinky on your non-dominant hand!" The second time that surgeon saw Ray he chalked it up to coincidence. The third, fourth and fifth times over the next few years he began to grow suspicious and called social services, which led to Ray spending some time as a ward of the state.

The truth of the matter was that Ray was just unlucky. Very, very unlucky and he always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or at least certain parts of him were. By the time Ray was fourteen he had lost the pinky on his left hand (regrigerator door), the index and ring fingers on his right (Firecracker and stray dog), and both big toes, accidents that still haven't been explained. Ray to this day maintains that he woke up on consecutive mornings to find one toe gone one day, the other the next.

You'd be surprised how much you need your big toes to walk properly. After losing both of them Ray developed a curious gait which led to the running joke "Say, Ray you sure have a hop in your step today!" Ray just took it in stride.

Now maybe you'd think that all these lost digits would make Ray a bit timid, maybe on the careful side, afraid of taking chances. I'm here to tell you that is definitely not the case. No sir, I've been Ray's friend for twenty-some years now and if there's a more reckless man on the planet, I haven't met him. Ray has wrestled alligators, run moonshine and even did some bare-knuckle boxing for a time. I always thought that was a bit unfair, him being short three knuckles and all, but I never said anything. If Ray saw fit to ignore his missing pieces I figured I could do the same.

Well all this leads me to the story I set out to tell you: How Ray lost his left ear and bottom lip. It's not a pretty story, I don't see how it could be, but if you're interested I'd be happy to tell you. What do you say?


M. PotPie