Refraction | Part 1 | Darwin's Steroids

2) Emergency!

So Chuck and I are sitting in the ER waiting to get my leg stitched up, and Chuck gets in to it with one of those red-shirt, young, hyper pro NAR morons about politics. Chuck can't control himself in these situations and reacts to them by performing extensive property damage to his nearby environs. Knowing that there was no way that Chuck could cover the costs he would incur were he to unleash on hospital equipment, I monitor the conversation closely. Or as closely as I can in my state of drunken stupor and advanced blood loss.

Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear, I think they are both wrong. Republicans are stupid, self-centered, assholes, Democrats are ineffectual complainers who lack the sack to do anything about their many gripes. So, I automatically feel smug and superior to both of them, and can therefore listen to their idiotic logorrhea with complete objectivity. I notice Chuck is beginning to wag his head back and forth while mumbling "no, no, NO, no, wrong, evil, no.......NO!". His fists are slowly opening and closing in his lap, and his left eye has rolled over in it's socket. It is fish-eyeing the wall-mounted T.V., obviously estimating the amount of force necessary to dislodge it.

Knowing that I may have already caused severe limbic distress to Chuck when I punched him in the medulla oblongata, but also knowing that Chuck was in the last stages of a Hulk-like transformation which could put the entire hospital in jeopardy of structural damages so complete that demolition would be the only recourse(I have witnessed Chuck actually punch through a concrete column, and he once kicked all the doors off of some lady's SUV), I considered my options.

Possibly cause retardation through further violence to my close friend and longtime sidekick, Chuck? Risk the legal ramifications associtaed with drunkenly assaulting a hapless, ignorant civilian? How difficult would it be to convince the staff that immediate anesthesia was in order for Chuck?

I untie the loose tourniquet I had fashioned from a midget horse trainer's bandana, and allow my precious life giving blood to gush out of my femoral artery and onto the lap of the Young Bush Moron.

I can see immediate relief spread across Chuck's face and into his body, his limbs relaxing, his left eye slowly re-aligning itself with the right, and I know I have averted crisis. I slump into unconsciousness, confident that my decision is the higher ground, one dies so that many may live....

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