Stuff Your Underwear Into My Mouth And Punch Me In The Nose Until I Can't Breathe Through It Day!
You're 78 years old and a blood disease has reduced you to not very much more than an embodiment of pain. You had a discussion some time ago with Manny, your home health aide who has been with you for over a decade.
"If you think it's time for you to go," he told you, "I can take you out. However you want it to happen, as long as it won't pin a murder rap on me. I'll do what you ask."
Today you're going to tell him the way that you've always dreamed you could go out. Manny is a man of his word. After considering it for a moment, he'll tell you, "It will have to look like someone broke in here. Tomorrow morning when I'm supposed to be at the supermarket. You didn't leave me anything in your will did you?"
Shake your head no.
"Good," Manny will say. "I've been bilking your bank account for years anyway."
Laugh with Manny. That's the last time you'll laugh before the end.
Manny will say, "Do you want the underwear to be soiled?"
Nod yes. Tell him if you don't get to watch him remove his underwear first, he might as well just hold a pillow over your face.
Say, "I need the poetry."
Happy Stuff Your Underwear Into My Mouth And Punch Me In The Nose Until I Can't Breathe Through It Day!
