Anemone: Did you know that Sea Anenomes can swim away from predators? What the fuck? That’s like if corn could beat feet every time harvest came around. Think of the children and their stupid Sadie Hawkins dances that won’t work! Or Homecoming? I wasn’t popular.
Open your mouths.
Wider than that.
No. Too wide.
Press your lips against each others’ lips.
Create a loose seal that you can quaver, make flexing motions with.
This is called the Sea Anenome’s Prom(ise Ring), or: The Sadie Hawkins Day Dance.
Clownfish: Whether crying or glimmering a murderous glint from underneath a sewer grate, clowns are horrifying. Awful, awful creatures. In this simulation YOU1 will dress up in the bizarre, baggy, brightly-hued outfit of the professional clown– a costume long since having outlast whatever sliver of significance or meaning it might have ever meant– and, absent-mindedly, standing as lax and slack as humanly possible, flitter your lips against each others’ as if feeding off floating flakes.2
Occasionally dart. Occasionally honk the horn you’ve let hang limp at your side while you, dispirited, ‘kiss’ with just your lips and face. The Riverdance of making out (but with clowns).
Hermit Crab: Your tongue lives in a shell inside your date’s mouth. It is fed by your date; colorful gravel pieces and, perhaps, a castle are added to keep it happy. It thrives.
Over time it grows larger, requiring a new shell. There are, unfortunately, parenthetically, no other shell-bearing creatures in your date’s face– not any that could shed a shell large enough to accommodate your still-growing tongue.
Unaware of its predicament, your tongue keeps growing, gets fatter and longer. It starts to press uncomfortably against the walls of its home; it starts to clip the edges of the shell and get cut. Soon soreness becomes the status quo and the wounds from the shell’s smooth lip start to ulcerate and flower with whitish-yellow foam, and crust. The tongue is trapped now: even if a new shell somehow appeared, the tongue would be unable to leave its cramped mausolehome to take advantage. It has resigned itself to death and it does, soon after, die.
It rots there for three days until the date’s mom notices it flipped over and floating in your date’s soup. She replaces it with a tongue that looks almost exactly the same.
Baltic Squid: A fictional beast known to “suck the bolts out of a submarine’s hull,” the Baltic Squid’s non-existence should not preclude it from being celebrated in the form of trying a gross and remarkably inefficient/non-erotic new way to kiss. This scenario sees the couple intent to remove, through the sheer power of tongue and suction, each other’s crowns, bridgework, partial dentures, orthodontic miscellany, and fillings. The extracted oral architecture is to be spit into a pestle and, when the make out has finished, ground into a fine dust. This dust will then be sold to buy old drugs.3
Alternate Ending: If you take this dust to the dentist within 36 hours, he or she should probably be able to smelt it down into an all-purpose mouth goop/some kind of magical teeth panacea, which he can then use to fix upwards of two-thirds of the damage you re-caused to each other. Baltic Squid!
2That’s the fish part.
3Mostly expired vicodin and some laudanum.