Balls

I'm sitting on the bus. A rough looking dude comes in and sits on the seat in front of me. Apparently he has forgotten something, and he realising it, curses to himself: "Balls!"

"Excuse me," I tap him on the shoulder, eternally curious, "Did you just say 'Balls' ?"

"Yeah," he replies, "Apparently I forgot something."

"Did you forget balls?"

"Nope." he says, " 'Balls' is just a great general-use curse word."

"It's an interesting curse word," I say, " 'Balls'. But surely you could colour it up a bit."

"I like 'Balls'."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do, but... what about 'Monkey balls!' or 'Balls of my mother!' That not only lets people know that your are upset, but charms them at the same time."

" 'Balls!' can do that too." he says.

"How?"

He licks his lips.

"Baaaaaaawwwwwllsssss!" he says, drawing it out like he is rolling the words around a pair of them in his mouth.

"Wow!" I say, "That thing you forgot sure seems important."

"Balls, yeah." he says, "I can't remember what it is though."

"Oh my Balls!" I say.

"You and me both, brother."