Getting a Mobility Device

Y’know those electric buggies old women in the street drive around? Yeah, well, they’ve always tempted me. I’m young and they’re old, I’ll have more time to drive around the cool mobility device – it’s only fair.

So, an old woman is trundling past me on the pavement in a buggy, and the pangs of envy hit me. I know it’s a sinful emotion, but for fuck’s sake those fuckin’ little carts are the greatest things ever – I would quite happily drive it home and use it to erase some of my daily walking. And make it fun.

I run over to the buggy and pull open the door. She shrieks and starts pushing at my face, trying to get rid of me. “Shut the fuck up,” I screamed down her ear, the veins in my temple throbbing and my hands smashing hers away and throwing blow after blow to her shrivelled, dried up head, knocking fantastic blue and black swellings over her ancient eyes and knocking blood out of her nose. She stopped screaming and started to moan. “Get the fuck out!” I roared, flecks of spit flying from my mouth and plastering her across the face.

I hopped into the driver’s seat and made my 5mph getaway.