Cancer for Fun And Profit... (part 1)

[Mister Pervert]

Wasn't sure where to post this, so, here goes...

I wish to friggin' hell I could work out a "profit" angle for this. As things are, I have _two_ options and neither of them pokes any cash in my pocket.

Option 1: Forgetaboutit.

Option 2: Go completely crazy, climb a wheat silo with a high-powered rifle, shoot all the children in the skoolyard where Cat Stevens (I mean, Yusef) works, and _pray_ to fucking Hell! Allah! God! The Almighty Goat! Gawd! _Anything_ to make sense!

Problems that leap out:

1. I have a long and dangerous memory.

2. Last time I fired a rifle in anger, it was in "side show alley" - the barrel was bent, like me. A good thing the guy wrangling the dodgem cars didn't take the air-rifle pellet in the chest personally.

But yeah. Cancer. For the record, I'm not entirely convinced I _have_ it. There was a bit of a "blood spurting from my pervy dick thang" going on last year. Indeed. Chunks of clots, when I could piss them at all. Was even rushed to a friggin' hospital at the time. After watching MASH reruns for about 27 hours in the emergency room, and completely wound up about not being able to so much as _sniff_ tobacco from a cigarette...

The first "nurse" (and I use the title _loosely_) was a Scottish fuckhead. But! More later...