And the Razzie goes to…

We’re driving to the hospital with yet another asshole.

“I need my seizure meds, man!”

“We’ll give you some if you seize, but for now, just sit still.”

“I need my meds!”

“You don’t need any if you’re not seizing.”

Predictably, he starts shaking his arms and legs violently and throwing his torso forth and back. It’s such a bad fake. He also, suspiciously, manages to remove the seat belts and nasal cannula during his little episode. It was such a terrible attempt that I didn’t even jam my fingers in his eyeballs, a harsh but very useful and definitive method of determining responsiveness.

“Would you cut this shit out? This ain’t my first day.”

“See? I told you I’m gonna have a seizure! You didn’t give me nothing for my seizure! You just let me have a seizure, man!”

“Shut up and behave.”

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