I was watching a James Bond movie the other night, Spectre, which was awesome.
But it doesn't really matter which one. You don't really watch a Bond movie for innovation. They're all great, and they generally follow a familiar script: Bond is shown to be dedicated to his truth, lots of beautiful women, crazy car chases, gun battles, gadgets, a supervillain, more beautiful women and elaborate torture device Bond escapes from.
Now, the best way to deal with a captured Bond would be, as Scott Evil says, to just shoot him, but bad guys tend to have their idiosyncrasies, so I'd like to propose the torture that sent me to the ER Wednesday and still hurts.
Put Bond in a power wheelchair. Drive him up to a keyboard tray. Raise tray to upper sternum height. Drive him into tray, not fast or anything, just consistently.
It doesn't sound like much, but it is probably the worst pain I have experienced. I had to take a few seconds to regain my composure and convince my arm that moving to the joystick and moving backward was better idea than passing out or crying.
The doc at the ER suggested I just bruised everything in there, and because I could breathe OK, he didn't think an X-ray was needed. "Ice and Advil was his advice.
It's OK if I don't move my chest, but as you might expect, I cough, yawn, use my arms to move, burp, etc. Then it hurts like #%#^.
And I write this to keep myself from thinking about the other aspect: the "Hey God, give me an effing break" one. I have a broken, or injured, rib. I hit my head this week before this debacle. And it'S not just me, but everyone it affects. Fortunately, for me anyway, a lot of people help me, so it affects a lot of people. But come on!
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