“This is the last time I am going to do this,” Betsy said. She squeezed the pimple on his back and the pus oozed out. She dabbed it with a tissue.
“But I can’t reach them,” Martin whined. “They’re on my back.”
“You need to go see a dermatologist. This ooze is grossing me out.”
“I’m not going to the doctor,” Martin insisted. “I can’t afford it. Besides, you know you love it. You volunteered to do it in the first place.”
“Yeah, that was when you had that one isolated zit,” Betsy said. “But now you’re getting them all over your back and I just can’t do this anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” Martin asked.
“Either you go to the dermatologist and get this treated properly or you’ll just have to live with zits on your back,” Betsy said.
“You’re a freakin’ nurse, for crissake.” Martin said. “This is nothing compared to the crap you have to deal with at the hospital.”
“True, but when my shift is over I don’t want to have to come home and deal with your gross back acne,” Betsy said.
“You can be such a bitch,” Martin said angrily.
“Okay, fine,” Betsy said. “Oh look, here’s another one. It’s a big one. Let me take care of this for you, Sweetie.”
Martin screamed out in pain as the knife plunged deep into his back.
Written for today’s one-word daily prompt, “ooze.”