by Craig Brownlie (two short stories, two poems, and a bonus for 99 cents or $10 for the longer paperback)

pain
/pān/
noun
1. Fish in private parts
2. Humor in a horror book
3. Lampreys under the skin
4. What’s with all the existential dread?
5. Horror in a humor book
6. Poetry when you expected a short story
7. What the hell is this?

Enjoy an excerpt:

Under Construction

After Chris grew used to the pain in his foot, accepted his new sneakers were ruined, and realized no one looked for him, he remained unprepared for the humiliation of peeing his pants. Even so, he could look at the nail that secured his foot to the floor.

The pitter-patter of the rain on the roof had worked its magic. Chris tried to stand and unzip his pants, but his foot only hurt worse. Before a better idea presented itself, he felt the warm moisture creep across his crotch. He leaned forward as best he could, willing the liquid down his pants legs. A few drops leaked off the cuffs, but mostly he soaked his backside. Right away, the denim of his Kmart jeans turned frigid. Then they cracked as he shifted his weight back onto his butt. The chafing dug in next, worse than corduroys that time he fell while ice-skating.

Read all the Little Books of Pain:
#1 Hammer Nail Foot
#2 Thick As A Brick
#3 The Book Of Practical Monsters