Florida Man returned to consciousness to that special headache and muscle pain that he knew from experience as the after-effects of electrocution. Judging by the pain in his back, someone had either jammed a taser or live wire into the base of his spine. He tried to move his right hand to explore the spot, but it wasn’t moving. Oh shit! He was paralyzed! Never to shoot a block of tannerite from way to close again. Wait, wait.

Maybe… maybe he wasn’t paralyzed. Maybe this was the OTHER kind of hospital he was in. Yep, given a moment to get his bearings, the arms weren’t moving because he wearing a straight-jacket. Thank The Mouse! Florida Man knew exactly what kind of scams go on in nursing homes to paralyzed patients. No way was he going to be a living sex doll for some oxycodone dependent semi-literate nursing home attendant to pimp out. Straight jacket, taser wounds, Florida Man could deal with that. It smelled like Lake County Hospital. Yes. Okay. It was starting to come back.

His minions had roughed up Papa Voudoun, who was also a Medicare fraudster. Florida Man could see now that just because a Santeria priest made a living by Medicare fraud didn’t mean that he didn’t have some powerful voodoo. Those two minions came back as flesh-eating zombies. Or maybe they’d just gotten into a bad bag of bath salts, but the timing was awfully suspicious. At any rate, he’d been forced to flee his lair and made the mistake of speaking openly about his fears of having his intestines eaten by his former minions.  Officers were called, tasers were deployed, Florida Men were arrested.

“Hey!” He called.

“Hey! I’m not crazy anymore and I want to call my lawyer!”

A skinny little ferret of a redneck in a corrections uniform came to get him.

“You get ate up by any o’ them zombies?” The CO asked.  “Heh, heh.”

Florida Man dialed up his lawyer. Actually, the CO dialed his lawyer and set the phone in the crook of Florida Man’s shoulder, the straight-jacket still being in place.

“Listen, Pam, its Florida Man. I’m in the Lake County jail and I need out.”


“What?! What do you mean, cash-flow problems?!”

From out of the phone speaker the tale emerged.

“It seems, uh, FM, as if the woman you put in charge of skimming Gainesville may have taken some liberties with your money. It does appear that she might have used some of the money for, uh, cosmetic surgery.”

Florida Man swore. “I’ll fucking rearrange her ass for her.”

“Well, she paid a doctor a lot of money to have that done.”

“What? Fuck. Fuck! Get me out of here.”

“Okay, okay. Its going to take a little while. You know I don’t front money to clients. I’ll have to get in touch with some of the others and maybe pawn a few things. What about the airboat?”

“No. No! Do not pawn or sell the airboat.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re breaking up, I’ll get someone down there, probably by tomorrow.”

Florida Man let the phone drop to the floor. He kicked it across the room and started beating his head against the wall and chanting, “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her.”

Suddenly there was a sharp pinch and the warm, relaxing feeling of a lorazepam and haloperidol cocktail washed over his body. Florida Man was in jail for a while, and he didn’t care.