After a lifetime of productive living, a brief stint with a semi mobile retirement and an escorted push into the nursing home, your life has just begun. These happy homes are another playground for you to romp around in. Recalling the only memories left in your noodle are the joyous times running around the school playground with kids of your own age. Running, laughing and screaming with delight is all you remember about youth. That and the episode with the bully that took your lunch and smashed you in the mouth. You have arrived at your last home and these special people that run this place are just going to go out of their way for your visual and physical entertainment. After being dropped off by your offspring that you spent 50 years of your life giving them the skills to survive in this dog eat cat world, they carry in your bags, go through your pockets and leave. There goes your soda money. The friendly staff now takes you to your new playground, the anal activity center. Sitting around is a fleet of used people that have no idea of what the hell is going on. Puzzles are everywhere and the biggest puzzle is what to do with it. Those blue, irregular shaped pieces that look like the sky has a nice paper flavor to it and the decks have only 41 cards in them. The fun starts when the staff disappears for lunch where the real food is being served. First detail to take place is picking sides. No one wants the slumped over body in the wheelchair with drool running out of him. You’re new, so you pick him for your side. He’ll make a splendid defensive player. Let the games begin. First off is HIDE AND GO PEE, followed by KICK THE CRAP and DODGE TURD. After that it’s time to hit the showers. Dinner is served. You look at the name tag on your team member’s shirt that is in the wheelchair. It’s Rolland Axt, that bully that stole your lunch decades ago. It’s payback time in the Hope Hospice and that sorry Son of a Bitch ain’t making it out of there alive.