“But don’t you want to see where you’ve been for the past few days?”
I know where I’ve been, I even know where I am. I’ve been in a hospital that slipped me a Mickey the other day, took my knee out, put in a replacement made of LEGO™ building blocks, and sold my old one to some rich Chinese guy who ground it up and smoked it and now believes that his gout is cured and his penis is three inches longer.
“My, don’t we have an active imagination.”
Mister, considering the pain I’ve been in and the rock-em-knock-em medications you’ve been feeding me, I been living on imagination and saltine crackers.
“Well, considering that, you can’t really believe all of what you just said.”
Yeah, you got me there. My knee wasn’t as young as it used to be. Guy’s probably only going to get two inches.
People in hospitals don’t seem to quite understand what they do. They cut you open, saw or gnaw out a part of you, put in a fake piece, close you up, put a big band-aid on it, put you a room and then come back fifteen minutes later and ask you if you want to go for a walk.
And what’s worse, they so, so damn nice about it.
So, this is my world for the moment, and you’re welcome to it. It ain’t so bad, really. Food’s decent. Drugs are excellent, which probably makes the food decent. All the damn clothes don’t have anything in back, though. These folks definitely are ass people.
l’ll be leaving here in a few hours, which means they’ll be lighting up the “Vacancy” sign soon. If you happen to be limpy or gimpy, c’mon down!
Remember, there’s a couple million more rich Chinese guys where mine came from.