Golf-ball Sized Cunt
“What do you mean I can't claim disability?”. The woman sitting across from her fancy desk was looking at me like I was deaf. She started speaking to me in such a loud voice like one would do when speaking to a child.
“Like I've said before. You can't claim disability, because you are self employed. Therefore you need an insurance to cover any disabilities that occur when you are working.” My brain couldn't collate with her 'by the book' attitude. “This is not something I've gotten while working, this is a tumor, in my brain. The size of a goddamn golf-ball. It's not like I drove myself against a goddamn tree! I've been paying mandatory tax for universal health insurance for years! I'm entitled to my fucking share goddamn it! This is exactly what the damn tax is for!”
My reasoning thoughts did not sink into her tiny brain as she became more agitated with every word coming out of my mouth. “The law states that if you are self employed you need an extra insurance to cover any disability. That's just how it is, I didn't make the rules sir.” “But you damn well know how to enforce them you fucking cunt!” She started tapping underneath her desk while my voice reached a volume comparable to a six millimeter revolver going off in the room as a security guard that resembled the Michelin man on a good day came in and strongly urged me to leave the territory. I screamed and yelled as he held me underneath my armpits and dragged me out of the disability claim office, getting ready to throw me out on the streets. My screams of anger were so loud that the saliva my blood red face was expelling shot as far as the desk I was being dragged away from. Slime shooting out of my mouth like a rabid pit-bull barking at you as you walk by a strangers house. The convulsions started in my pelvic area as the golf-ball sized tumor stuck in my brain made seizures a daily hassle. The guard left my body shaking on the pavement outside the office as he called an ambulance. “Yeah, we got a shaker on the sidewalk here. Come pick him up.” His nonchalant voice rang through my head as my seizure inflicted jaw bit through my tongue.
It was, for me, moments later as I woke up in the emergency unit of my local shit-hole hospital when my anger started to manifest itself into full blown hooliganism. The first thing I saw was the first thing to fly through the air. Sadly the first thing I flung through the air was the intravenous saline infuse providing my body with well needed salts to contain my pro convulsion like status ripping apart my left arm median cubital vein. “I WANT WHAT I DESERVE!” The words echoed through my head as my conciseness started slipping. “I want what I deserve....”