Episode 3: "Jerry Breaks His Penis"

Jerry Balls, an over-the-hill adult film star, falls asleep on the job causing him to break his penis. He's rushed to the hospital for surgery where he meets several people who want to get a look at his injury. His manager Marty pops by to try to sort things out with the doctor. Marty and the doctor agree, people are not eating enough fiber.

Jerry drifted into a daydream. 

He was thinking about what was left in his fridge: A meatloaf from the Italian restaurant just down the street from his apartment in Hollywood. 

And fifteen  Pepperidge Farm chocolate striped frozen cakes. A fan who's job it is to deliver the cakes recently gifted an entire crate of them to Jerry. Jerry assumed they were stolen but let it slide. He simply considered it a bonus payment for all that he has given to the world during his career. Besides he had to spend money on a new freezer to store them in.

Jerry considered whether he would microwave the meatloaf or reheat it in the oven. Both had their advantages, he thought. And which of the half-empty Merlot's in his fridge would pair best?

The cake, which would be eaten whole, had to be thawed in the fridge for exactly 3 hours and the timing need to be precise.

Like any hardworking man in America, he looked forward to the end of his work day when he could spend time doing something he truly loved: eating a high calorie dinner and watching TV.

He was looking forward to his appearance on a comedy game show he filmed two months prior that was now airing.

It's called So You Think You Have Self Esteem?. 

It pits young, attractive Internet influencers with seemingly perfect lives against washed up rock stars, sleazy Hollywood executives and C-list celebrities like Jerry. The goal was to rattle the self-esteem of the influencers. 

He felt like he did a pretty good job on the show. He even got a couple of laughs. He replayed the fond memory of the show's taping and drifted off to sleep.

The mysterious woman in a partially open bathrobe from earlier appeared in a dream. She was looking at him the way few women looked at Jerry off camera. 

As she walked toward him carrying the meatloaf in one hand and an opened bottle of wine in the other, he reached out to undo the belt on her robe. 

It was turning out to be an amazing on the job nap.

However, this was not a nap between scenes like Jerry was known for. This time he was in the middle of intercourse with a costar riding on top of him. 

Jerry was laying comfortable on his back on an expensive dining table with food and place settings surrounding him. Not to mention the crew who were the last to notice he was asleep. 

Alerted by Jerry's snoring, Mandy, the naked woman on top of Jerry, slapped him hard across the face.

Jerry screamed awake. 

Mandy was not impressed with her sex partner napping.

“Pay attention Jerry!” she said, frowning. “I was going places.”

Mandy began again with renewed vigor, lifting higher and higher each time. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted. For once in her career actually meaning it. 

The two were here filming Horny Mother in-laws 16, a popular adult video series featuring men having sex with their depraved mothers in law. 

In the porn world, it didn't matter that Mandy was nearly two decades younger than Jerry. Because she was over 25, she fit the “older woman” type perfectly.

Besides, when the camera was on Jerry during his scenes, it would almost always be focused on whatever his balls were doing. 

Jerry was still completely passive on the table. Mandy flipped herself around to face the other way. 

The kids call this the reverse cowgirl because, as the logic goes, if she were riding a horse instead of Jerry, she'd be on it backwards, facing the horse's ass.

Nothing good has ever come out of riding a horse backwards. And nothing good has ever come out of a horse's ass.

Even though he was technically participating in intercourse, Jerry's heart wasn't in it.

He started imagining the housewife in the robe seducing him. There was something different about that woman. 

She was was so intense and raw, he thought.

Jerry's increased arousal pleased Mandy and she picked up her pace.

The camera crew came in to get shots of the genuine pleasure on her face. 

And then they lowered the camera to Jerry's massive testicles to get the obligatory shot of those. The massive balls danced underneath like clumps of rubber.

As Mandy was pleasuring herself on Jerry's lap while he day dreamed, it happened. The horrible event that would change Jerry's life. 

Jerry's penis came out and when the full weight of Mandy came back down on it, it got jammed. And because he was as hard as a school boy at Mardi Gras, it broke. 

You could hear it in the room. Kind of like a popping sound.

Subtle but horrifying. 

Jerry screamed like a man on fire. He threw Mandy aside and ran from the table. Talia chased after him with a towel.

“For the love of god, someone get some ice!” Carlos cried in terror.

“Call an ambulance!” Jerry yelled as he ran. 

He tripped over a lighting cord and went headfirst into a wall. Literally. His head penetrated the drywall and was buried inside, leaving his naked fat body hanging limp from the hole. 

“Is he dead?” asked Carlos.

“He's breathing,” said Talia who tried to dislodge him but couldn't.

The crew was stunned. Some wept. Others crossed their legs. People asked each other, “What just happened?”

An ambulance was called and the crew helped Jerry onto the floor. His face was covered in white gypsum and his tongue hung out like a cow at the slaughter house.

Everyone stared at his bruised and swollen-in-the-wrong way penis.

“I quit,” said Carlos, before walking out the front door, not saying another word.

“It looks like a bike tire when the patch doesn't hold and it bulges out,” said Talia. 

Jerry's broken penis was a horrific sight.

The camera person threw up onto a prop plate on the dining table.

Jerry was rushed away in an ambulance unconscious.

He woke up in a hospital bed hours later. A woman dressed as a nurse was holding his penis in her gloved hand.

This was not unusual for Jerry. He had been in this situation many times before.

Hospital rooms were a regular part of Jerry's porn career since the beginning. But there was something wrong with this one.

He marveled at the detail in the room. Not to mention the smells and the sounds that real hospital rooms have.

He slowly realized it was a real hospital and his penis was in fact broken. 

The woman holding it was a real nurse, and not the kind that strips naked and fornicates vigorously with a patient because she can't wait for someone healthy to come along.

The nurse holding his penis was talking but not to Jerry. 

“You can see dark bruising and of course evidence of internal bleeding.” she said.

Only then did Jerry realize she was talking to a room full of nursing students who who were all looking at his exposed genitalia. 

There must have been twenty of them, all still in their teens, staring with horrified faces.

“So the right angle is bad?” asked one young woman.

“Oh God yes,” answered the nurse. “Have you ever seen a penis?”

“Not in the light,” answered the young woman.

“It looks like a balloon animal,” said another, her face contorted with concern.

“That's right,” said the nurse. “Very painful I imagine.”

“Why?” cried a young man in the room who was looking down at his shoes. “It's not supposed to look like that!”

The pain seeped in as Jerry gained consciousness. 

“Put it down, put it down!” he yelled.

“Okay,” said the nurse. “Sorry, we don't get many broken penises. I'm going to scoot all these kids out and get you something to help with the pain.”

The room emptied and Jerry was asked to sign a surgery release form. As soon as he did the nurse put something in his I.V.

“This is Demerol,” she said. “You'll be conscious while they cut open your penis but you won't care.”

Jerry either fainted or fell asleep. When he awoke the next morning he didn't remember the surgery. His brain may have shut down to protect itself.

On the table beside him sat a flower bouquet with little dildos carefully arranged throughout. Jerry squinted to read the card. 

“Get hard soon” it read.

“It's from the Free Speech Coalition,” said a young nurse named Winnie, who was checking Jerry's I.V.

“That's nice of them,” said Jerry. 

“I have to check your dressing,” said Winnie.

She lifted off the blanket covering Jerry and pulled up his gown.

“Oh my,” she said, gagging at the sight. “They warned me. I've seen things but I haven't seen this.”

An elderly couple passed by the the open door and stopped to stare.

Jerry was annoyed. “If you haven't got tickets please move along,” he said.

Winnie went to close the door.

“What on earth happened?” said the man.

“Did Viagra do this?” said the woman. 

“Yes,” said Winnie. “Viagra kills.”

Winnie gently shut the door in their faces even as they craned for a better look. 

“It's looking not too bad.” said Winnie. “I'll have to change the dressing in a few hours and that could be unpleasant.”

“It might be for you too,” she added.

Dr. Allen entered and held an x-ray up to the light.

“It looks like the ER did an x-ray of your genitals when the ambulance brought you in,” he said.

“Why?” asked Jerry. “There's no bones in there is there?” 

“I should hope not,” said Dr. Allen. “But you'd be surprised by the things I've pulled out of urethrae over the years. An ultrasound is what they should have done, of course.” 

“Isn't the radiation bad for my balls?” said Jerry.

“Yes it's terrible for balls that's why you usually put lead over them during x-rays.”

“Oh my god,” said Jerry.

“The education system failed you today, Mr. Balls. I'm sorry for that. Fact is though unless you're making babies in the next few days, I would try not to worry about it.”

“Having children anytime soon wouldn't be a good idea,” said Dr. Allen. “This is the thing of comic books.”

“How would I make babies like this?” Jerry asked.

“Well that's just it, isn't it?” said Dr. Allen. “A Syringe would have to be involved. Although those are some pretty impressive testicles. What are they 50 grams—twice the high end of normal?”

“Seventy in my right one. Sixty-two in the left,” said Jerry. “But they weighed them after not having sex for two days.”

“Who did that?” asked Dr. Allen. “UCLA?”

“Stanford,” replied Jerry. “I've got a written certificate signed by four different deans.”

“I see. A lot of interest there. Understandable,” said Dr. Allen.

Dr. Allen used his pen to move Jerry's penis a little to get a better look. 

“Did you feel that?” Asked Dr. Allen.

“No,” said Jerry.

“Good,” said Dr. Allen. “That would be unbearable if the medication wasn't working I would imagine.”

The door burst open to reveal Marty Stewart, Jerry's  manager, a man whose jet black hair did not match his 77 year old weathered face. 

He went right for Jerry's exposed genitals to have a close look.

“Oh Dear God,” exclaimed Marty, “It's like a bratwurst that's been left in the sun and picked at by hungry crows!”

“Excuse me?” asked Dr. Allen.

“Mandy did this to you?” asked Marty. “I'm going to sue her so hard she'll have to sell her silicone on the open market.”

“Her tits will be Chinese solar panels one day, Jerry, I promise you that.”

"I think you're thinking of a different kind of silicon," said Dr. Allen.

“Doctor, this is my manager,” said Jerry.

“I'm going to have to cancel your engagements, both literally and figuratively,” said Marty, opening a note book.

“Yes, he won't be engaging anytime soon,” said Dr. Allen. 

Marty thumbed through the dogeared pages.

“I’ve got you at Marcel’s tomorrow night judging a wet yoga pants contest,” said Marty.

“On Wednesday you fly to Toledo to act in a music video for a Christian rock band. Ironically I assume, or maybe they found Satan, who knows? I can't remember what that's about. 

And Wednesday night you’re a panelist on cable news with one of the lesser Falwells. Jeannie, I think.”

“He's not going to be in any shape to do any of that,” said Winnie. “Plenty of rest to start with. You don't want an infection down there.”

“No I don't!” Jerry said, grimacing at the thought.

“Infection means no erection,” quipped Dr. Allen.

“Friday you’ve got to get your no-no’s measured for your new dildo: The Jerrymanderer,” said Marty.

“That's not going to happen, Marty,” said Jerry. “It hurts when they make those molds as it is.”

“Next weekend I have you in New Jersey shooting Butt Invaders Six,” said Marty. “And in the evening Barely Legal Butt Minors Two and Three.”

He flips through several pages in his notebook.

“Let me just see if there's any anal involved in any of those....” he said.

“Yes there is!” he determined.

“That's the last thing you want to be doing,” said Dr. Allen.

“Doctor what’s the prognoses?” asked Marty. “Some of these butts are a tight fit. People aren't eating enough fiber nowadays. When will he ready to go?”

“Wait, who are you again?” asked Dr. Allen.

“Marty Stewart, Star-maker!” said Marty, before handing the doctor his magenta colored business card.

“You know doc, you’re in pretty good shape for a man your age. I’ve got an insatiable demand for MILF content and I need more guys like you. Guys who can get erect in front of a large group of men on a moment’s notice. Do you think you could do that?”

“I'm married,” said Dr. Allen.

“Married?” said Marty, rubbing his chin. “Interesting.”

“Look,” said Dr. Allen. “Jerry will be a long term recovery and that's if things go well.”

“Really?” asked Jerry.

“You have a tear in your tunica albuginea,” said Dr Allen. 

“I thought it was his dick that was broken,” said Marty.

“It is,” said Dr. Allen. “It’s the thick fibrous coat surrounding the corpora cavernosum tissue that produces an erection. His porn career will have be put on hold, maybe forever.”

“Oh God,” said Jerry. “oh god, oh god, oh god!”

“Who knew they were that complicated?” said Marty. “I thought they were like little balloons that inflated on command when your high school gym teacher walked into the room.”

“Although it's rare, it does happen,” said Dr. Allen. “Especially since the reverse cow girl is gaining popularity again. Thank you, Teen Vogue.”

“Actually one of the doctors was saying it's the most dangerous position for this,” said Winnie, covering Jerry with a blanket. 

“We hope it will heal properly but there's always a chance it could leak,” said Dr. Allen.

“It leaks at the end of every scene he shoots,” said Marty. “What exactly do you mean?”

“If the tube running up the shaft can’t fill and hold the blood, he won’t ever get a full erection again,” said Dr. Allen.

“Kill me, Marty,” said Jerry. “Kill me now, I mean it. Pull the plug.”

“You're not on life support,” said Winnie. “There's nothing to pull.”

“Anal will be the least probable of intercourses in Jerry's future.” said Dr. Allen.

“Why, because of the relative tightness?” asked Marty.

“Yes,” said Dr. Allen. “And it's true, people aren't eating enough fiber, but that's beside the point.”

“We’ll just have to give it a couple months before he so much as lets himself get an erection, let alone does something with it.”

“What if I get aroused,” asked Jerry. “Are blow jobs okay?”

“Do not get aroused, Jerry,” said Dr. Allen. “If you have trouble I can give you medication to tamp that down. You don't want to get an erection until the tubes heal or they will rupture.”

“Seriously,” said Marty. “Do you participate in medically-assisted dying because you're killing my client.”

“I can refer you to a specialist who puts in stints but you'd have to walk around with an erection all the time,” said Dr. Allen.

“Well that seems doable,” said Marty. “His penis is unremarkable. It's his balls that paid for my infinity pool.”

“I have to continue my rounds,” said Dr. Allen. “But I will leave you with a very specific set of instructions. Don't get aroused and keep an eye out for infection.”

Dr. Allen walked out of the room and Marty chased after him.

“I bet you know your way around a vagina,” said Marty. “There’s this actress I think you’d like working with. She’s had a bunch kids because she's Catholic but she’s a vegetarian and she’s kept herself out of the sun. I swear she looks like a Fox News anchor if you can get past the chewed up nipples.”

The door closed behind them leaving only Jerry and Winnie, who was now texting on her phone.

“So what's it like having sex for a living,” asked Winnie. “Is it like being a prostitute?”

“No, there's more lights,” said Jerry. 

“Look, it beats digging ditches,” he added.

“You don't sound like you're from So-Cal,” said Winnie.

“I'm not,” said Jerry. “I'm Canadian.”

“No kidding, how'd you get here?: Asked Winnie.

“My balls,” said Jerry. “Been doing this since I was 18. I have no idea what I'm going to do now.”

“Hey, my mom knows who you are,” said Winnie, reading her phone. “Can I get an autograph?”

“Sure,” said Jerry. “You want me to sign a boob or something?”

“I can’t show my mom my boob! Gross! How bout we take a selfie?” asked Winnie.

“Sure,” said Jerry.

Winnie pulled the blanket back and posed her head near Jerry's injured penis. She smiled widely gave a thumbs up and so did Jerry, entirely out of habit.

Jerry closed his eyes. “Can I rest now?” he asked.

“Thanks, man. She'll get a kick out of this,” said Winnie. She tossed her gloves in the trash and exited the room.

Jerry thought of his meatloaf going stale in the fridge and all the good times he had with his penis throughout his life. 

He sobbed for the first time in decades.

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