>>>>>[Home, out of the tank, feeling weak, drunk as a Lord (And I know one, too, so I can be an accurate judge.). Most of the medication the doctors gave me at the "Do not mix with alcohol" types, but that's gone out the window. I need some spiritual anesthetic.
Little Murphy... Our Murphy, he broke cover to tell me something. Big Murphy, his Uncle, the guy that died on New Years putting himself between me and those high-velocity rifle rounds? Yeah, he had three months to live.
Oh, he'd have lived longer than that. Physically. Coctran's Disease. If you don't know what that is, don't feel bad, most doctors don't. It's an rare version of Alzheimer's Disease. Unlike that easily curable, and easily corrected disease, however, it only affects orks, there is no treatment, and it's fast. He was diagnosed on Christmas Eve. In less than three months, my old friend Murphy wouldn't have even recognized his own sisters and brothers. Or how to eat. Or not soil himself.
He told the kid (One of the few times I'll use the term on Murphy, damn but he's grown into his place!), and no one else. He also said he wanted to go out like his father and his father before him... Just biz, working for me, doing something right. Instead he goes out with a smile saving the bastard that threw him crumbs to risk his life for over a decade... Saved his friend.
Anyhow, I drank everything at the apartment, the wine cellar won't let me at any of my aged wine in my current condition, and don't trust other places to be. I'll be at the. ... OK, my WhatTheFrag V4.2 just kicked in, or at least got my attention, and our spam is now talking to us, and can't be ID'd? Frag but I hope it's the drink and my no-longer-mangled brain.]<<<<<
-- Money Johnson (04:49:44/01-27-74)
