Red Cross Reject

So the Red Cross rejected me on the grounds that I am a weak little sickly motherf***er. I wasn't planning on telling them that, but while I was sitting next to the very organized organizer lady, I happened to hock up a wad of phlegm roughly the size of Yellowstone National Park, and twice as yellow. And even though I resisted the urge to show it to her, she told me they couldn't send me anywhere. I wanted to take the disaster preparedness class anyway, because I figured it's only a matter of time before someone declares my bedroom a disaster area and I might as well be prepared, but there were non-virally-infected people waiting for my place, and the organized organizer lady told me "not to be such a little bitch." And I said "Hey lady, you can't talk to me like that just because I hocked up a wad of phlegm the size of a national monument in your classroom!" And she said, "Listen, snotwad, I've got hurricane victims to attend to. Are you going to move your ass and those jeans you've been wearing for five days straight or am I going to have to move it for you?" And I said, "Haaagggghhh, haaaaagghh, snnooorrrkkk, snnnneerrrrkkkk, ptooey."