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According to reports yesterday afternoon from within the Pickford home, obnoxious hypochondriac Joseph Pickford just wouldn’t shut up about the large festering gash in his right leg.
“There is blood everywhere and putrid-smelling greenish pus dripping down my leg,” whined the relentlessly annoying crackpot, who seems to have a different ailment almost every single week. “I can see tendons. I’m cold and feel close to death, please, somebody, call a doctor.”
“Same old Joe,” remarked Pickford’s wife, who described her husband’s phantom conditions as “stifling.” “The other day he went on and on about how he’d cut himself, needed his thumb surgically reattached, was losing blood fast. He’s a real bag of wind, that one.”
Pickford’s friends have in the past complained that his hypochondria frequently gets in the way of weekend plans, and often prevents them from having a good time. “At the hockey game last weekend he didn’t make it 15 minutes before he started griping,” said close friend Paul Worcester. “Something about a puck hitting him the face and his eye socket being crushed.”
“Of course now he’s got a ‘giant infected cut’ in his leg,” Worcester added. “Sounds like Crazy Joey.”
“Lazy, Lazy, Lazy,” remarked Pickford’s colleague, Gerald Burnmink, hearing about Pickford’s latest stunt. “This guy’s always calling in sick. ’I’ve got a headache’ this, ’I’m temporarily blind’ that. ‘My eyes are bleeding, it’s certainly a brain aneurysm, dial 911.’ Please. I’m not falling for that again.”
Although Pickford’s faux illnesses have not exactly endeared him to loved ones, his wife admits that she is willing to give him another chance after he recovers from his latest tantrum. “I’m annoyed, but Joe’ll be up and having a beer in no time, and we’ll hug it out,” remarked Ms. Pickford with a laugh. “All this shouting and crying and scraping his nails and screeching and banging his head and the tear-filled pleading and the vomiting and the piercing screams to please, God, please help him, it’s all just anxiousness.”
At press time, sources reported that Pickford continued to jabber on about his leg late into the evening, before falling asleep right there on the floor. “He kept talking about God and seeing the light or something,” said Ms. Pickford, shaking her head. “Typical Joe. Such a drama queen.”
