Back From The Dead

Just as my last shift was coming to a close, Officer Goldenchild and I were sent on a medical run. According to dispatch, there was a kid in the North end of the city who had gone into diabetic shock, and he needed Insulin fast. While en route, we were also told that this kid has a long history of violence. Whenever the medics revive him, he goes ballistic and tries to fight everyone in the room.

As the world’s strongest living human, this info did not faze me. I simply punched the gas harder in order to ensure that I was the first one on scene.

When I finally got to the kids apartment, his girlfriend opened the door and frantically motioned us inside.

“He’s in the back bedroom!” She screamed. “Please hurry.”

While jogging through the apartment, I took note of the huge pile of weights scattered about the residence. Judging by the vast assortment of well worn poundage chilling on the floor, I could tell that this dude liked to lift weights, a lot. Not usually something that I like to see from an angry violent kid.

After navigating past the iron, I entered the bedroom and found the kid lying glassy eyed and ridged underneath his covers. Though I’m not a doctor, it was pretty clear form his frozen face, and thousand-mile-stare, that he was in bad shape.

Quickly the medics threw down their gear and began to render aid. In a flash, tubes were pulled out, blood was drawn, and syringes were filled.

One of the medics, a huge swollen beast of a woman, grabbed my shoulder.

“I’ve dealt with this guy before,” she said. “He gets really pissed when he wakes up. Please make sure that I don’t get hit in the face.”

“Got it.” I told her as I clamped down tight on the dude’s arm.

While the medic tried to locate a good vein, I concentrated all of my considerable strength on keeping this kid secured. Using both hands, I grabbed the guys left wrist and pinned his arm next to his hip, while OFC Goldenchild, working on the other side of the bed, locked down the other arm. When we were ready, the medic took her needle and jammed the Insulin directly into the guys thirsty vein.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!! I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU BITCH!!!” The dude screamed literally a split second after the medic pushed on the plunger.

“Hold still!” I yelled as the kid wrenched at his arms with crazy retard strength.

“AAAAAHHHHH!!! I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

When the shot was completed the medical team backed away and gave the kid some room. After they were a safe distance away, I looked back at the kid and was amazed. I’d never seen a diabetic reaction and was shocked at what happened.

In a matter of seconds, the guy went from completely out of it, to fighting for his life. Then, just when I thought I was gonna have to Taser him, he relaxed, and went back to his usual, mild mannered self.

“AAAAHHH, AAAHhh, AAahhh, aaahhh.”

And right when he calmed down completely, and I relaxed, the kid farted…directly into my open mouth.

“BBBBRRRRTTTTT.”

It was the deepest, wettest, most sudden blast I have ever tasted. Instantly, I reeled back and dry heaved.

“Ohh man, sorry.” Was all the kid said before rolling over.

It was absolutely ridiculous, I had helped save this kid from certain death and he repays me with a smelly turd sandwich.

That’s just typical.