The Showdown (Creative + lnsanitation)

[Insanitation]

Fred's eyes popped open as he lay in his bed. The high pitched ring of his alarm had ended his dream about his glory days. With a heavy sigh, the man began thinking about possible motivation to get him out and about. His elbow creaked as his wrinkled, prune-like digits dipped into a glass of water. After retrieving his dentures, he wet his lips with his tongue before popping them in. His bifocals were thick, round, and the way they shined in the light as he struggled to get into a position where he could sit up made one thing clear, Fred meant business. Finally, his cane came within reach, his back popped like bubble wrap as he sat up. "Ooh!" he put his hand on his lower back. He could handle the pain. He fought in the war, the big war! It would take more than an aching back to keep him from the cafeteria. He slid his feet into his house slippers as the bathrobe-clad warrior began making his way to the hall, using his cane masterfully to keep his balance.


After what seemed like hours, though it very well could have been, Fred took step after slow step until he reached the front of the line. It was jello day, he wasn't about to pass that up. "Well good morning, Fred!" a friendly voice called out behind him. The voice of an angel, all three hundred and seventy-six pounds of angel. His eyes narrowed as he saw the soiled  pair of Depends in her hand, likely just having finished with a sponge bath as well. Fred hissed as he bared his dentures, the same expression as the mighty snapping turtle about to strike. He knew that room. He hated it, everything about it. While previously, his mind was set on the soft gelatin treat, now there was but one thought and it was anything but pleasant.


@Creative (hope it's good enough)