There's something funny about hospitals. I mean all those sick people looking all greenish and sad- it perks me right up because I am neither green nor sad. I flaunt my good health in the cancer ward by complaining about the price of cigarettes and how I sit in my kitchen with my microwave door open with the rays pouring out just cause I think it clears up my acne. Anyway I wander into the sick children unit and I sit down on one of the kids beds. He's like all fucked up with some sorta neurological disorder which gives him the shakes and a drooley dribble problem.
I ask him how he is doing and he's back at me with his snotty I'm fuckin 12 years old and in a hospital, dick! response, "Oh! Great! Just fine and dandy!" I notice that he's hooked up to an IV and I ask him whats brewing in there. He's like, "It's my morphine drip, moron!" I don't think I'm appreciating his attitude so I rip the IV out of his arm and hold it up. I ask him, "You ain't got no AIDS do ya sport?" He shakes his head a little frightened and I jam the needle into my arm and give the IV bag a squeeze so I get a good jolt of the liquid sunshine. My eyes roll back in my head for a second or twenty and when I get them to look straight again I see this little punk is pushing the nurses button over and over again. "Gimme that, jerk!" I yell as I grab the bitch caller out of his hand. A couple moose nurses come barrelling in as I get up off the bed to make a break for it. But I think I kinda overdid it a little with the morphine cause it gave me the 'Oh no you don't,' as I collapsed on the floor and let my bladder go. The room began spinning as the nurses crowded around checking on the kid and on me. The head nurse stared down into my face smiling deviously as it all went sorta grey and I was gone.
I awoke in what seemed to be the basement of the hospital. My wrists and arms were tied to some ring bolts screwed into the floor. I think I was lying in a puddle of some sort. All in all not a great place to wake up. A greasy bad makeup filthy clown was playing the accordian and the room was decorated with streamers and balloons -all black. Some children in hospital gowns were apparently playing hot potato with a slab of meat. I was woozily taking the room in as the children came giggling running toward me saying, "Look! He's awake! He's awake!" The clown began playing the accordian faster and faster with obviously no tune in his head. The kids we're apparently equipped with scapels and scissors and other assorted surgical sharpeties. One of the older kids in a blood splattered surgical mask said in a fake adult voice, "Sir... you have very big medical problems and we are here to help." He stood with his hands behind his back and asked me how many fingers he was holding up." I told him he wasn't holding up any fingers. He shook his head and looked down at me clicking his tongue. The accordian music seemed to be getting louder and faster. "Dr. Chris?" He said, "This man his having eye problems. Please treat his condition." Dr.Chris, who looked like he was about six, kneeled down next to my head and came at my eye with the scapel. Other children held my head still as another shoved a antiseptic smelling towel in my mouth just as I began to scream. Dr. Chris sliced through my eyelid and deep into my eye popping it but good. The pain wasn't as bad as you might think but the sticky goop that leaked down my face made me feel nauseaus. My other eye went wild in the socket looking everywhere at once when I heard the older kid say. "Dr. Phyliss, this man's hand won't stop shaking what is your recommended treatment." She responded happily with, "Amputation!?" Of course that was apparently the correct diagnosis because the little girl took out a saw and stared methodically sawing back and forth about my wrist. I passed out as she got half way through but I awoke to Dr. Phyliss slapping me back and forth across my face with my own severed hand. Although I was half out of it and the accordian music seemed now on 78 speed, the children continued to remove my toes one by one, my penis, and my nose before they headed in for the good stuff. I stayed conscious and alive as my torso was cut open from neck to my where my penis once was and then the rib spreader cracked me right open. My last memory was an organ free-for-all with these little surgeons happily cutting and ripping out all my internal organs. The clown pulled the children away from their live autopsy and sunk his teeth into my heart and began chewing. This was something that I didn't like but I welcomed the warm blanket of death because this whole experience left me feeling awfully violated.
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