I found this picture in an old magazine dug out of the back of a shelf at the Columbus, Mississippi public library a few years ago. I love the guy's fabulous outfit, and am still intrigued at the trick he's performing.
I decided to use it as a writing exercise for some high school students I was teaching last year, and they balked. So, I made a deal with them: I'd write a story based on this picture, too. So I did, and you can read it below. You might want to scroll up and take one more close look at the picture.
No matter what Virgil tried, he just couldn't reach that ever-evasive booger. Upon awakening from a fitful slumber in which he was wearing his favorite super hero costume, he sensed the obstacle blocking his breath, both entering and exiting his right nostril. At first he inserted an index finger -- a favored digging, scratching, pushing and gesturing tool for many -- but his pointer only dislodged the booger from one spot and deposited in another, where it became a whistle blowing a C# on an inhale and a D on an exhale.
A musical person might have tried different breathing rhythms and, with pride, kept the crusty mucus in its noisy place, but Virgil is not and never will be musically inclined. In fact, Virgil began feeling like he was slowly going insane with every see-saw see-saw see-saw.
He rushed to the bathroom and quickly unrolled a wad of toilet paper to blow into, but the effort proved futile. It left him with a headache and a magnified sense of the booger's presence.
He began to pace and sob and twirl small tufts of his public hair when, suddenly, he saw the bucket of nails and a hammer. He knew then he had a solution to his dilemma, and he went for it.