My sister sent me this picture of a collection of wheelchair action figures. I suppose wheelchair action figure’s a bit of an oxymoron, but anyway, I kind of like the guy all the way over on the right- he looks like a sort of evil super villain. Back when I was newly injured and thought my life was over, it came to me (probably in a painkiller induced fantasy) that I could at least become a wheelchair-bound super villain. I could dress up in strange suits, shave my head and maybe even get one of those creepy cats to put on my lap for that authentic look. But then I realized my hands were inoperable so I wouldn't be able to hold the cat if it tried to run away. I know! I could just give him some of my painkillers, I imagined, and then he wouldn't want to run away. Anyway, ever since I was a child I had been secretly bent on world domination, but I ended up as a heating and air-conditioning contractor instead. Go figure!
Lying there in my hospital bed I realized I had to get really good at manipulating people to get them to do what I wanted. Hey! Can you change the channel for me? Hey! My forehead’s itchy... no a little to the left... no, higher. Hey! Can you break into that sporting goods store and steal some guns? You get the picture. I figured after a few months of this, I could have a whole platoon of innocent looking healthcare workers wearing scrubs who could be summoned at a moment’s notice- hell, half of ‘em are teetering on the edge anyway. I’d do it from the inside. Start with the rehab facility I was in then work my way into a nursing home, infiltrate a hospital or two, and next thing you know, I’d have an army of veritable automatons ready and willing to implement my evil plan. Unfortunately, the painkillers wore off and I sort of lost interest in that idea. Or did I?
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