Burning would be my bag, baby.
You, with your moles and your freckles and your skin covered in dark abrasions would come to me looking for help. Fed up with having to be one of those people without pure un-marred skin, you would come to my office (which would be out of the back of my mini-van) and hand me the cash as fast as you possible could. I would pull out my steaming, crackling metal devices, approach that freckle that looks like Antarctica on your forearm and get down to business.
You would call me The Freckle Lancer and it would all make sense.
Let’s face it. Freckles are like the burnt popcorn pellets you find in the bottom of a butter-laced movie bag of the stuff. They leave a bad taste in your mouth and if you can help it you’d rather not have any of them near you. The faint looking freckles that have no height or width are “cute” but the ones that rise like yeast in an oven are considered the “evil ones” that must be lanced (or burned off with a hot flame) or frozen off to save you from the cancer that the freckle will one day bring into your lovely life.
I would much rather be a Freckle Lancer than a Freckle Freezer.
Sure, freezing off freckles that could potentially someday be worse than normal everyday freckles may seem like the less painful situation. Sure, ice cube pain (where you hold it in your mouth or on a body part for minutes) doesn’t seem to be the worst pain in the entire world — but it is. The Freckle Freezers will have you believe that freezing off an errant freckle is the way to go. The cleaner, safer, more appropriate way.
But I say, nay!
As the Freckle Lancer, I’m here to tell you that if you’ve got freckles you want out of your life — flames are the way to do it. More specifically, lancing them off. And since “lancing” rhymes with “dancing” — it makes it sound like a much more active, entertaining process. But what does “freezer” rhyme with? Well, there’s “wheezer” (breathing issues) and “teaser” (ridicule) and “greaser” (oily) and “tweezer” (more pain) and “geezer” (painful old age) and “caeser” (salmonella poisoning from bad dressing) and so on.
“Lancing” just has a much more entertaining element to it.
Other than “dancing” there’s “prancing” and “romancing” among others, and if I’m a patient of my own, I can tell you that all the associated words that go with lancing make me feel way more confident that the whole “medical procedure” will be far more fun than any kind of freezing going on in the other camp.
But I hear you: rhyming words doth not make a freckle procedure all hunky dory.
Still, if I had lancing abilities in my repertoire, I would put those talents to good use in offering up free weekend and nighttime services where I would lance any of those horrific unwanted freckles you’ve got on your arms completely away. And then, after they’d been lanced, burnt and scabbed over — the two of us would go grab a few drinks (somewhere low key and casual) and we’d laugh about how those freckle freezers were so living in the dark ages.
How many unwanted freckles do you have?
That’s what I’m saying.