The Anti-Turkey Offense (Intro/RP)
Why Dwight K. Schrute exists... is for the greater good of this nation.
This is not a negotiable fact amongst Americans, or Russians, or Mexicans. The gays, even, or Chinese. Possibly even cyborgs, as cyborgs have been known to argue extensively about the likes of me in their spare time. I pose a major threat, to the likes of cyborgs, on many an occasion, mainly because I am aware. I am aware of their rise to justice. I am aware of their massive plot, aiming towards world takeover. I am aware that cyborgs could very well be the reason New York lays in ruins, why, to this very day, mutants run amok amongst our people, like hoodlums, robbing local convenience stores of the mere forty seven dollars and nineteen cents ($47.19) they possess inside the drawers of their cash register.
It is quite possible that the latter of which happened merely due to juvenile delinquents, the likes of whom shop at this so-called 'Hot Topic' store. They dress in black. They wear chains. They abuse poor defenseless animals and spray paint sides of buildings. Thugs. Gangsters. Troublemakers. The lot of them.
But. Also. Quite possibly mutants.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is why Dwight K. Schrute exists. To protect the people from these ruffians. I exist, in the deep throes of this society. In your diners. In your libraries. Watching. Waiting. Much like Jack Bauer, but with much less experience. Much like ninjas, but with much less Japan. I have completed an application for the likes of Homeland Security a total of four (4) times, all of which have been rejected. But I know better. They need these underground, 'freelance' agents, keeping the good, 'normal' people safe. They need McDonald's cashiers. Librarians. Assistant to the Regional Managers. They need them, to hang around, to protect those innocent bystanders. I know my place. I know what I am here for. To protect. Is what I am here for.
What I cannot protect the world from... is the inevitable. Famine. Drought. Pandemics. They are a major issue. Africa, who does not have enough supplies to run its country for example, which may or may not because they invest far too much time in rap music. Hobos, who also do not have food, most likely the symptom of spending all of the money for sandwiches on heroin and other such hallucinogenic drugs, such as cocaine, and LSD. The Bird Flu, which is running rampant lately. I know better. I won't eat chickens. I know better. The Bird Flu? Avian Influenza? Oh, I know. It sneaks up on you. As do turkeys, a fact of which most people are not aware.
Unfortunately, fists are not much use against The Bird Flu.
I do not get sick. This does not mean that I am a moron. I am prepared to take every precaution against the oncoming pandemic. It will come. Scientists have warned the public about it for years. I know. It will come. A simple shot is much protection against this. A simple shot, and I am back on my way to protecting society.
I have been waiting for twenty three minutes and twenty three seconds.
In Monopoly, doubles mean you roll again. However, if one gets three doubles in a row, they get sent to jail. My question is, do I really want to take those chances?
The doctor is in Exam Room Four, they keep saying. He's busy, they said. I cannot take such time, waiting for a simple shot that I could more than likely do on my own time, if I were given the chance. I did not kick down the door, but I am not afraid to use force at the best of times. "Excuse me!" I called out to the room in general. One would expect a doctor to be doing doctor-like things! But no, there was most certainly a man inside, napping. Snoring. With an adult magazine across his face. Not that I would know what an adult magazine looks like. Not that I had ever been a subscriber to Big Busty Bazookas myself. This was not doctor-like behavior.
"I have been waiting for exactly twenty three minutes and fifty four seconds as of when I said 'fifty', and I do not believe this is very good customer service for your people. I demand a refund."