Reginald the Sick Fuck was very active in the community. He loved to garden. He participated in Book Club and made the best suggestions. He coordinated events for charity. He entertained elderly people and also documented great stories from their youth so that their younger loved ones could hear wise life lessons from them. He did so much. He loved his family. They always came first. His wife Bethesda loved him.
"Reginald, I am concerned that you are wearing yourself out." said Bethesda.
"I am quite tired." said Reginald.
"Do you remember the phone number for the phone company?" she asked.
"Um.." said Reginald.
Reginald normally remembered the number. Bethesda was asking because she had a friend who worked in the customer service department and she wanted to call and chat with the friend. Now she had to look it up.
"No no, I'll look it up. It'll come right back to me." said Reginald.
"I need to talk to my good friend!" said Bethesda.
Reginald was tired, he was really losing his touch. He was getting sick of doing all this good stuff. He sat on the couch and zoned out. He could barely think straight. He started running his fingers through his hair. He felt a bump on his scalp. It was a scab. He started picking and pulling at it. It hurt. It was gross. But he got joy from it. What a sick fuck. No one in the house, his kids, Bethesda, or the dog, knew what he had done. He looked at the scab on his fingers. It was big.
"You feel better don't you, you sick fuck." said the big scab.
"Yeah." said Reginald, smiling.
"Well good. Now throw me outside and forget about me. Just focus on the pleasure you got from picking at me. Then forget about me and go do some good deeds. You sick disgusting gross man with a dark secret."
"Okay." said Reginald, grinning big.
"Remember, don't tell anyone that you did this." said the head scab.
Reginald got a second wind from that. He went and raised a bunch of money for disadvantaged children.
Bethesda was having an affair with someone at the phone company. Reginald didn't even mind.