It was a normal Thursday afternoon, the school bells had rung out two hours ago. But things were not so great for Scott Malkinson, who saw the world swirling around him in a blurry mess of chaos, in the horror that was diabetes.
He knew he should not have eaten an entire bag of sugar candy the minute he got home. The delightful thought had tempted him all day long, he just couldn't resist. And now, he was paying the consequences of temptation. While other kids paid in rotten teeth, Scott suffered colorfully blinding diabetic comas every time he ate something sweet.
"Why God, why did you punith me, and give me diabeteth?" he thought as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, slumped over in a diabeteth stupor. "Thoths skittleths were good, though!" was his last thought before blanking out. The sticky sweet poison was all over his hands and mouth.
He blinked his eyes again, and saw a bald fat man in an oxford sweater appear right before him. Frightened by the apparition, he scooted backwards on the carpet, rubbing his eyes. Surely, his brain was playing tricks on him.
But when he opened his eyes again, the old man was still standing there. He had a big and white mustache too, much like a walrus. Scott cleared his throat as he realized the man wasn't so frightening after all. He might as well try and start a conversation. "Um...who are you?"
"I'm Wilford Brimley!" the man said in a thick Texan accent.
"Okay.." Scott Malkinson rubbed his eyes again. "I must be justh imagining thingth." That sugar was really going to his head! He tried to stay reasonable, despite the fact that he was clearly hallucinating.
Wilford Brimley pulled up a stool, and sat down on it. "I know how ya feel, son. I have diabeetus myself."
The diabetic boy looked up at him. "What?"
"Well maybe I don't have a funnah lisp like you do, but sometimes I do have trouble pronouncing words. Like die-uh-beetus."
Scott raised his eyebrow. "You die of beetles?"
"Diabeetus. Ah said, ah have diabeetus." the deep voiced Texan man repeated himself again.
"...You have a giant penith?" Scott Malkinson didn't know if he'd heard correctly or not.
"Diabeetus! Ah have type two diabeetus!" Wilford scowled. Sometimes he regretted even wasting his time trying to help people with diabetes.
Scott cowered. Then it dawned on him, he didn't know what this big burly guy was doing in his room, or even if he was real or not. But it was kind of nice to know he wasn't the only one with a funny accent and diabetes.
The fat man's expression softened as his little burst of anger subsided. "I know this is weird. You're probably seeing me because you ate too much sugar, that's how ya got here. Listen..I make mistakes too. I eat ice cream, and apple pie. And sometimes I don't take my medicine. But I want you to know, I'm here to help!"
"Wow, really, you are?" Scott smiled.
"Yes. I want you to call Liberty Medical today. You'll get free diabetes testing supplies." Brimley explained. For the next hour, he went on to talk about his medical problems and how diabetes effected his life, and how Liberty was always there to help. Scott fell asleep from listening to the talk.
When he woke up again, Wilford Brimley was gone. He shook his head in disbelief.
"That wath weird."
AN: For those who don't know..Scott Malkinson is the kid "with a lisp and diabetes" that Cartman always makes fun of.
And if you don't know who Wilford Brimley is..youtube it!