“We Find A Drifter, Kill Him, And Cut Out His Heart! Nobody's Gonna Miss Him, Right? It's The Perfect Plan!"I’m just trollin’ here. I’m not that paranoid. But a funny thought came into my head a while ago. I recently got my full driver’s license and in the mail with my license came a registration form to be an organ donor. I think it’s a great thing. One organ and tissue donor can save up to 8 lives and enhance 75 others [cite]. I really think it should be a mandatory thing I mean cause really, what does a dead guy need a potentially reusable pancreas for? It’s a good system.
But then this weird thought comes to me, speaking words of…paranoia to me. On the form, there is a row of boxes that can be checked out indicating which organs you’d prefer to keep stitched in you after they do a good harvest. It includes your kidneys, heart, eyes, bones, liver, lungs, skin and pancreas. Now, I was just half-joking to myself but I wondered, if there were some rich, billionaire ***** out there who was suffering from some kind of terminal illness brought on by a faulty organ and of course, like the self-absorbed, self-important son of a ***** he is who considers his life to be several times more important than the next guy, he obviously wouldn’t be too accepting of an early death. I mean, he’s too successful to die. He’s earned his money through his inborn exceptional merit and he won’t be able to live the rest of his life to enjoy it? He can’t accept such an injustice, can he? Of course these would be the thoughts going through the mind of such a self-absorbed, self important *****, but what would stop this guy from paying a staff member of the ServiceOntario Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care a handsome amount to look the other way while he gets to shuffle through all these consent forms looking for some unlucky blokes who wouldn’t mind having the much sought-after organ ripped out of his lifeless corpse seconds after he’s dead? Then he could hire a private investigator to fish around for some guy who has given consent and who isn’t really too influential in society. Somebody who won’t really be missed. Some rejected loser whose death happened all so suddenly and wouldn’t cause too much of a stir to find out the truth. Then, simply get a hired gun and bam, a couple of days later, find your sorry *** dead in some bizarre freak accident…but a seeming accident nonetheless. Of course with your precious organ still intact. Greedy, selfish, self-important billionaire ***** numero uno, your dead liver-robbed corpse nada.
I’m freaking out man! But nonetheless, I’ll still give in the consent form. I don’t think I’ll need them. Just don’t be surprised if you find myself a couple of weeks from now in some cuckoo accident involving slipped-over mozzarella cheese and a conveniently placed nail file. Farewell.