prompt: aid, title: terms and conditions may apply in misc. flash fiction

(sometimes, I write the same idea twice in two forms, in parallel, to see how they manifest differently)

Have you ever noticed how the names of skin conditions if they weren’t actually diseases, would be exotically-beautiful stage-names? Eczema, for example. Wouldn’t that be sublime? “You hear that new Beyonce? She let Eczema take one verse, Bey is so good to the up-and-comers. Giving Eczema a chance.” Beautiful! If it wasn’t already claimed, you could bop to Eczema.

Or Psoriasis. Psoriasis. That’s a stripper name. Not a high-end Vegas name, but the best dancer in a low-rent club. Only one who gets a stage-name. Everyone else on the pole is just Beth or Karen but the marquee says Psoriasis. “Ladies and gentlemen! Coming up to the Peepers stage, get your dollar-bills and bus-tokens out for the lovely Psoriasis!” Dancers at Peepers had literal psoriasis, of course, but she’d be their singular metaphorical.

Rosacea? That’s a Latin Pop star. Rosacea’s huge in Guatemala but just starting to break into our scene. “Did you hear Yolando by the new girl Rosacea? She could be the next Selena. It’s a jam.”

Alopecia would be a Zendaya deal, former child-actor billed as “Alopecia” on Disney’s Channel, when she was in that sequel to “Wizards of Waverly Place” “Blood-Sorcerers of Waverly Place.” Allison Peters just didn’t pop, so she’s Alopecia and is dating one of the Jonas Brothers? One of the lesser ones? The forgotten one Buford Jonas? The fat Jonas? The one never allowed to dance. Someday, TMZ will announce the engagement of Buford Jonas and Alopecia. No one will care.

Cellulitis is more challenging but could work for a virtual-gaming streamer? People going to the Cellulitis Twitch channel, watching her avatar play Mineblox, hoping she’ll show up in a bikini, when the streaming-character Cellulitis is actually operated by a dude named Sergie Vichiovich who spends their donations on track-suits and Kratom? But the internet believes Cellulitis exists and maybe someday they’ll get to purchase a jar of her urine. That’s their Cellulitis dream.

I’m not saying anything you didn’t already know. I’m sure everyone, at some point in their lives, realizes skin conditions could all be performance-names if they weren’t taken. You just talked to your grandmother about it, but hear me out: maybe it works vicey-versy as well?

“Wondered why my knees were flaking off. Turns out it’s just a bad case of Jojosiwa, Month of pills, no more Jojosiwa! Knees are already growing back. Jojosiwa’s awful, but there’s a cure.”

“You sure you’re supposed to bleed from the groin when you stand? I know you had that carrot peeler accident, but maybe it’s coincidence. Maybe you got Rihanna. Go to the first-aid station. Get that checked out!”

“If you don’t get that Shakira looked at, you’re going to die of blood infections. If we only had socialized medicine, folks would just go to the doctor’s and wouldn’t succumb to Shakira.”

I dunno, it just feels like that to me. Maybe I’m not thinking clearly. Maybe I’m distracted by my ears being covered by stage-two Bjorks. It’s possible. Hell, it’s likely.