I am overwhelmed with writing projects and sleep deprivation right now.  Fortunately, I found some old writing that might be fun to cut and paste.  This one is from 2002:

I Ran Like A Rabbit

Almost.

A nasty, foul, dirty, stinky guy with one arm in a splint, no teeth, complaining of a broken arm and late stage cancer, no more than 140#s, is screaming, yelling, jumping up and down and kicking the walls...

I entered his cell and advised him to calm down.

He shrieked, yelled, screamed and threatened, obscenity after obscenity...

"Sir," I said, "I can get you some of what you want but you don't get anything until you calm down. Do you understand?"

"You don't understand you *&($& piece of (%$&&$^!! You'll do what I tell you and you'll do it now mother%@#(*&!!"

"No sir, I won't. You need to calm down."

"You want some of this?! Is that what you want?"

I smirked. "No, sir. I just want you to calm down."

"Alright," he snarled, "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do!" He squared off with me.

"Sir, Don't be stupid..."

Then he started fumbling for the buttons on his pants.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna throw my colostomy bag at you you worthless ^%&*$(@!"

I stepped out of the room and shut the door. Quickly.

Rory
(Recently threatened by a colostomy bag, still nauseous but laughing)

Addendum: The old guy never did calm down the whole shift and spent much of the night squirting the contents of his colostomy bag under the door of his cell.  Ick.