shithead-nazi has ruined it for me. I read the link.

With great effort, I walk hunched over to the enclosed bathroom. I open the door and shut it behind me. I take a seat, grab the shower hose, and commence showering.

It feels degrading to have to shower sitting down, but boy is it comfy. Too bad the water is heat, pressure and time limited. They could've just given me a bucket. Then again, the hospital knows better than to give me a bucket.

I could do awful, awful things with a bucket.

The shower shuts off and I get up. I am refreshed. I am happy. So far, the morning has run smoothly and without incident. Sadly, I have not yet learnt the lessons of my complacency. God plays his hand. He pulls blackjack.

fuck.

Stepping out of the shower I slip on the plastic lid of a jelly cup - the contents of which I fed to the toilet some days ago. I fall back, grab at the curtains, and land on my back. My shoulders take the brunt. My head taps the tiles lightly. The bulldozers in my kidneys go on a joyride. A morphine burrito would go down so well right about now. I lie on my back. I will wait for the pain to subside. I will carry on with my normal duties. The nurses will be none the wiser. I cannot; will not; give them a reason to prolong my stay. My sanity, and my life, depends on it.

Lol I feel for ya. I was hospitalized once and the fuckers wouldn't let me smoke. Understandable, but I was going crazy. I had to enter a four day battle of will and mind with the nurses, going as far threatening them with physical acts of violence so I could get them to give me some nico gum and my fucking glasses back.

But yes. Post mrao.

This story wins......

A few seconds pass. I notice an orange glow from the shower corner of the ceiling. It has never shined before.

Once again I am oblivious. Once again I lose precious seconds. Once again the septic system is poised to assault my fan.

It all comes together. The light is connected to a long string reaching all the way to the ground. Above the light is a plaque.

"Pull for assistance."

There are only two nurses now assigned to my room - psycho bitch and the captain.

And one of them is coming. Now.

I assess the situation. I am lying immobile on the floor. I am cold. I am wet. I am naked. There is a jelly cup lid on my heel.

God has played his hand, so I play mine: I pull a 3 of diamonds and an expired discount voucher for Civic Video.

I am so fuck.

Then it happens. An angry bang on the door. It is psycho nurse. The hospital bouncer. She is not pleased. She has not yet consumed her morning meal of baby.

This is a badass story. Mods, I plead with you to not delete this!! This is beautiful work!

Seatbelt-Nazi, you have now been entered on my list of worst enemies. Good going, penis wrinkle.

this is a hell of a story i dont care if it was copied and pasted the fact is it wasnt on NG before

did you write this yourself?i think it is simply impressive that someone on this site would actually be able to type up something so detailed and something that immerses the reader.GOOD JERB!

No. The end is a 300 joke. If he posted this word for word without any interruptions the topic would be about 20 pages long.

This was one of the best posts i have read.

MOAR!

Then it happens. An angry bang on the door. It is psycho nurse. The hospital bouncer. She is not pleased. She has not yet consumed her morning meal of baby.

"What do you want?" she snaps.

Wow. Such hospitality. Where'd they find this gem of a worker. The abattoir? I think fast. I tell her I'm just getting dried. I reach for the towel and rub it through my hair to mimic the sound. This was a mistake.

My head hits the tiles and I grunt in pain. Psycho bitch realises something's up. For all she knows, I could be training a Golden Retriever to don a balaclava and attack the medical staff. I wouldn't put it past her.

"Do you want me to come in?"

Do you want a mastectomy?

"I'm going to come in."

The fuck you are. There's only one option. I outstretch my foot and jam it up against the door. Psycho nurse pushes hard. I will hold. I must hold. If they find I am injured, they will hold me longer for observation. If they find I have hit my head, they will hold me overnight.

This can not happen.

"What's going on. I can't open the door."

Over-drive time. I tell her my drip stand is up against the door.

"YOU'RE DRIP STAND ISN'T BLOCKING THE DOOR. IN FACT, I CAN SEE IT FROM HERE. IT'S NEXT TO THE BED."

Damn. The psycho nurse is smarter than I thought. Her vision isn't based on movement at all. Last time I trust Jurassic Park to help me escape from a hospital bathroom naked.

"Open the door."

I hope you sell out and fuck that crazy nurse. :D

I tell her I can't. I continue making noise with my towel. I plead she will go away.

"Why not."

I have three words for her. Drip. Door. Jammed.

"WE JUST WENT THROUGH THIS."

I slip into over-over drive for the second time in two days. The result is instantly regrettable. I will never understand the thought processes involved. I have doubts as to whether any thinking took place at all.

I sing to the tune of Banana Boat. Loudly. Many seconds elapse. I am cold. I am shivering. I am paining. I am lying naked on the bathroom tiles of a concentration camp hospital with a towel around my head.

And I am singing.

"I'M GETTING THE HEAD NURSE."

Finally, she leaves. Here is my opportunity. The pain has subsided just enough for action. I struggle back onto my feet. I throw a singlet on and a pair of pants. I fling open the door and throw the towel behind me. I cripple-jog to my bed. I lift myself onto it. I pull the covers up to my chest. My heart is beating. My pulse is racing. My escape hinges on this action.

Seconds later, psycho nurse arrives with the head of the ward. They check the bathroom first. They find water, soaked pyjamas, and a twisted towel. They do not find the drip or patient 67.

The head nurse exits the bathroom and spots me. She marches towards the bed. She is in a controlled rage. Her pupils are dilated. Her cheeks are flush. Her very being quakes with fury.

I am not a smart man. I am still in over-over drive. A smart man does not stay in over-over drive. I am half-smiling. My voice is feeble.

"I don't suppose you like Jurassic Park?"

Nice.

It is late morning. My belongings have been returned. The doctor has visited me. I inform her that my stay has been uneventful. She laughs. I exit my room on my feet. I head East to the elevators. On my way, I pass by Switzlerland. The man in the wheelchair stretches his arm out, begging me to take him. But I cannot. I leave him to his fate. It pains my heart. It truly does. He was here when I arrived. He is still here as I am leaving. I promise to myself that one day I will liberate the captives here. I will be the hero facing the darkness and heralding the dawn. Until then, I must survive. God is still pissed. And I know it. Boy do I know it.

"Stop trying to send me to the morgue and maybe I'll play dice with the pirate ship you call a hospital."

I exit the elevator. Ground floor. Sunlight streams in through the double glass doors. I am smiling. I am warm. I am happy.

I sign out at reception. I am free. Free from heparin needles, psycho nurse, jelly, the pirate ship captain, and seated showers. A cloud passes over and softens the sunlight.

I am not free yet. God is not accustomed to failure. His vengeance will be swift. Today is VH day. Victory-in-Hospital day. But the war is not over. It is in its closing stages, but there are still more hands to play.

Then, a friendly voice. The voice of someone not trying to kill me. It is harmonious.

"Over here!"

It is my friend. He has come to pick me up. I walk over to him. He dangles car keys from his hand. I ask him if I can drive.

"Oh man, hahah, far out man, fuck no, no fucking way."

He turns around and walks out the door, still laughing. It was worth a try.

I approach the doors and take my first step outside. Storm clouds loom on the horizon.

The words form in my mind. I know he can here them.

"If you want me."

A boom of thunder resonates in the distance.

"Come fucking take me."

"I don't suppose you like Jurassic Park?"

The most epic reply in the history of replies.

I read to the end on that link someone posted, and I have to say you did a fantastic job with this. I'd probably have gone insane waiting for the next bits by now if the link hadn't been posted, and the ending was brilliant.

Great job.

Wednesday 11th - VH Day +1

I wake up. I am in my bed. My bed. It is the morning after VH day. I have escaped medical Stalingrad as the Wermacht surrendered next door in a blaze of morphine-induced fury. Tens of thousands have laid down their arms and crossed over to the other side; abandoning me to my fate.

Fuck the Wermacht. I will fight on alone.

I look out the window. I am not smiling. God's offensive - brilliantly planned, yet poorly executed - has been repulsed by a unit of his own creation. The unit has successfully withdrawn from behind enemy lines; across rivers of heparin-fuelled flames and miles of antibiotic jungle; to safe territory. It is time to think. Time to consolidate. Time for action.

It is time for the counter-offensive.

It is time to realise the paradox of an antibiotic jungle.

I assess the situation. It is grim. Bleak. Jelly remains in world-wide circulation. New hospitals are under construction all over the globe. In Switzerland, clowns lie dying in the streets. Cripples everywhere rally to avenge the slaughter of Miss Holmes. A confused and PMS-suffering Woman's Day launches an offensive into New Idea. Five celebrities become fat in the subsequent gossip dead-zone. Two more are wed. The world is outraged. Tensions reach boiling point. A fuck the size of which the world has never seen is about to hit a fan no larger than a toaster. Worst of all, I somehow caught the flu.

This is what happens.

Compounding the dire situation is one simple, harrowing fact: God is immortal, I am not. In the absence of a work-around for this I am royally fucked. I could be a martyr. I could sacrifice myself to appease God and set things right. But suicide is a sin. I would go to Hell. I have been to Hell. It is not peachy. Not peachy in the slightest. I would prefer to prolong my stay on Earth. I will survive.

I rise to shower. I will pray to Rheem. I will need his strength. While undergoing this steamy meditation, God's progression becomes clear.

God created the Earth, and man, in 7 days. I had spent 7 days fighting against man and his creations. And man, unto God's order, is governed by the 10 commandments.

Creation and the ten commandments. God is a big fan of symbolism. This will be no exception. His offensive hasn't stalled at all. It has quietened. Time to think. Time to consolidate. Time for action. On the tenth day, Saturday 14th, it's go-go time for God's retribution against me. No fan is big enough for the shit about to come. With a thousand years, and a trillion men, no fan could be made big enough. There is only one solution.

I must dismantle the fucker itself.

From the inside.

I...need...moar!

God kills Dumbledore

yay originality

not sarcasm

And it keeps coming...

This leaves me with 3 days. If God is going to rest today, than so will I. I am exhausted. I am receiving soup, but I am still weak. My mid section still pains. I am restricted to light activity only. Fuck that, I have a war to win. Does inter-ethereal war count as light activity? For America perhaps, but for me, no chance.

It is lunch time. I have had soup. I am happy. I am content. I decide to go for a walk. Walking is important after staying in hospital because the lungs become congested from disuse. While I might not be on speaking terms with my bastard child kidneys, I happen to enjoy a mutual friendship with my lungs. Therefore, I will protect them. I will walk.

I walk in the nature reserve often and without incident. Today however, I would encounter God's auxiliary units, from which I would learn one thing.

God still wants local man dead.

I am ten, maybe fifteen minutes into the walk. I'm walking through the big nature reserve near my house. It's pleasant, but the reserve has somewhat of a bad reputation. Today though, I am just happy to enjoy the quiet of nature and the sunshine. The track narrows to a small rock-crossing over the remnants of an eroded creek. One person crosses at a time.

I walk down to the creek. A kid, maybe 17, maybe 18, sits on a BMX in the centre of the crossing. He has acne everywhere and a shit haircut. I was once told bogan's love rust, but inner-city bogans are of a different variety. They like chrome. Anything chrome is the bomb. The shinier, the better. They are Chrome Bogans.

This BMX was shiny. I figured it was stolen. Chrome Bogan's can't afford bikes. That bogans have adapted to ride them is a marvel of evolution unto itself.

"What the fuck do you want."

Yeah, this is going to be pleasant. I tell him to step aside. I add ", kid" to the end of it.

Chrome Bogans don't like to be belittled. They are the Adam and Eve of psycho nurse - all traits inherited.

"Fuck you dickhead."

Chrome Bogan looks at my tee-shirt. He's looking for an add-on to his own insult. He's doing a shit job. My shirt reads "O-week," as in university O-week.

"O-week. What fucking gay shit is that."

I would kill him if I could. Shame I can't. My next move defies logic, and is not one I would take again. I have reason to believe my kidneys had already boarded flights to Fiji at the time of the incident. My brain most likely had detached from my spinal cord; dug a fox-hole, and bunkered down. Wherever the hell the three of them were, they weren't with me at the time. I speak flatly.

"Fucked if I know. But the O reminds me of the face you make when you're sucki-"

I never did get to finish that sentence. Shame. Twas' snappy.

I get king-hit in the back of the head, off-centre by someone I didn't realise was behind me. I go straight to the ground like a dead weight. Chrome Bogan dismounts and kicks me in the upper back. Shit hurts. Agony. White flecks are filling my vision. I don't want to pass out. I feel rustling in my jeans pocket.

Wow this is getting so hot. :D

At 8/26/07 02:13 PM, elementell wrote: this is the ending

Hey thanks, asshole :D.

God seems to be rather displeased with me as well, considering that I've been having pains too. Maybe it's because of all the Richard Dawkins videos I watched on YouTube... although that doesn't explain why Professor Dawkins himself seems to have quite a satisfying and fulfilled life.

At 8/26/07 02:13 PM, elementell wrote: A ruined ending.

I bet you feel good about yourself now that you've taken some form of killing time away from people you've never met.

At 8/26/07 02:13 PM, elementell wrote: this is the ending

You unbelievable fuck. You ruined it, that story is fucking amazing. No matter what the ending is. And now you ruined it, ruined my time. Ruined my fun.

Go die.

At 8/26/07 03:12 PM, Abomination wrote:

At 8/26/07 02:13 PM, elementell wrote: this is the ending

You unbelievable fuck. You ruined it, that story is fucking amazing. No matter what the ending is. And now you ruined it, ruined my time. Ruined my fun.

Go die.

pen0rs in a bag

... oooooookkkkaaaayyyyyyyyy...wierd

At 8/26/07 02:13 PM, elementell wrote:

I. Hate. j00. You ruined the best BBS story of all time you little fuck stick. I'm not happy, and shit's about to hit the fan. Big time.

Bookmarked so fucking hard. And fuck the little prick who posted the ending.

even though i didn't read it.