Giving Up My Seat to a Disabled Person

So today I was coming back from my lectures, and entered the bus, in order to return to my little room and write something on this blog. I entered the bus peacefully and uneventfully, happy that for once nothing horrible is happening, no blood is spurting from all sides and no people are exploding around me. I pay for my ticket and proceed towards my promised seat.

Suddenly, I see it. As I move towards my seat, I see to my right three seats that look very nice, and above them, I see a sign. The sign reads: "Please give up your seat to a disabled person."

Instantly, I felt a deep hole form in my soul, as I realised the gravity of the situation. I looked around frantically, looking for somebody in a wheelchair, or with a cane. There was NO ONE. It was a veritable crisis situation. Those chairs required a disabled person as soon as possible, and, as the reader of the sign above those chairs, it was now MY job to find one. That beatiful, simple day was ruined.

There was nobody on the bus that I could use. I had to leave the bus, even though I just bought a ticket. I went to the driver and practically begged him to take the ticket back, but he refused. I became very very angry, and, unfortunately, I grabbed his head and smashed it forcefully into the ticket dispenser, turning it into a bloody, brainy mess. I looked at my hands, horrified, and in shock... but I had to go on. I had to. The disabled people chairs needed me. I felt sorry for the driver, and I decided to give him a proper burial. I buried him in the University campus, in a location I will not disclose. I then continued my invalid quest.

There was enough time. The bus wasn't going anywhere without a driver. I saw my first target moving slowly with crutches along a walkway on campus. He was a young, innocent looking young one, who had injured his legs (possibly in a skiing accident). I went over to him and asked him nicely to come with me to the bus and sit on the chair, but then suddenly something occured to me. The bus had 3 disabled people chairs, not one. Would one disabled person be enough or are 3 people required in such situations? I didn't know, but I couldn't take any chances. I told the guy to come with me, but he refused (he called me a nutcase). I got angry again and tried to force him to follow by dragging him a long, but somehow he fell over and hurt his knee. He kept screaming and cursing as I watched, but then suddenly he stopped and became motionless. He wasn't breathing.

There is only one thing that can kill this fast. A cerebral aneurysm bursting, increasing intracranial pressure and causing a cerebral herniation. The fall I caused must have affected a pre-existing aneurysm to burst. He died painlessly, I like to think.

But now I didn't have a disabled guy anymore. And I realised that soon the people from the bus company would a realize that one of their buses isn't moving (British bus companies pride themselves in the precision of their timetables). Also, people had gathered around me to see what happened to the disabled guy. I ran away as fast as possible, heading for the Disabilities Office and Facilities. That place was crawling with invalids from all walks of life. Whites, blacks, asians, dudes wearing those slouched british hats... everything. I went to get a coffee from Costa (it was right there) and then went in.

"Come with me, please," I said to a disabled person, grabbing his hand delicately but firmly. He didn't fight me. He couldn't, because he didn't have any arms. I screamed in horror as the fake hand I had grabbed fell out of my hand, and rolled on the floor.
"Why? Why do you wear fake arms?" I asked, but it was too late. He ran for it, his body flailing oddly due to the lack of arms. It was sort of funny, but I had to keep myself from giggling (not because I was running out of time, but because it's NEVER okay to laugh at disabled people).
At this point I was already desperate. There was no more time, the bus people were probably already closing in on that fateful bus.
"WHY? Why won't any of you come with me?" I screamed.
The disabled people started gathering around me, alarmingly. I saw their leader, a bigger, more powerful specimen, with more vibrant colours in his plumage. He laughed a deep, thunderous laugh, and proceeded to explain. His mouth moved strangely, possibly due to palsy, or partial paralysis of the muscles of the face.
"The true question," he said " is why do YOU try to replace the empty space on the chairs of bus with our people?"
"Because the Sign of Bus says so! There is no denying it!" I cried.
"Oh, young child... you do not understand. In your ignorance, you have failed to read between the lines and descipher the truth. You can sit in the disabled people chairs, if there are no disabled people around. If, and only if there are disabled people around are you to give up your seat to them."
I thought about it for a second and suddenly I understood. I seemed to have reached a new level of understanding.
"Ooooh..." I said.
"Yeah," the Disabled One said.
"But I just killed two people to get here," I told him.
He smiled for a second, as some distant sound caught his ear, but then his eyes met mine again.
"Well then you're screwed, lol!" He exclamed.
The distant sound became louder and louder and more defined, as I identified it as a police siren. My time had come... there was no escape.

There IS no escape. As I hide out here in this barricaded University mess hall, scared hostages all around me, I have decided to post this on my blog. The cops are going to break in and shoot me in the head shattering my existence any second now.

Goodbye, my friends. I hope you never forget me, and remember never to fall for the treachery of that double-faced, snake-blooded Please Give Up Your Seat To A Disabled Person sign.