Surgery smurgery

The guys back at Unofficial Standards, Inc. were kind enough to send me a do-it-all license. I'm guessing they took good note of my age and the ongoing events in this country, and let me do whatever.

So now, I can take over the wheel on the highway, even though I might have trouble going higher than the second gear. In fact, I think now I can drink vodka straight out of the bottle and dance it out in the rave scene. I think now I can even smoke, chew and eat tobacco. In fact, I think I can do all of that and drive at the very same time. In fact, I think I've been allowed to do all that since the day I first opened my eyes. It's just that I would be upsetting almost all the
real authorities, and might even end up in juvenille court.

But, who cares?
Driving around in the barrio with a genuine cuban cigar in my mouth definitely beats being 15, performing surgery and taping it all up, right Dhileepan?

Of all the days

*tap, tap*

Mic che..
[feedback]

1..2..hel..hello?

Anyone here?

*tap*

Is this thing on?
Hey! Cleaning staff, sound technicians! Who wants freeform?
Shut up man, this stuff is useless inside your head.
Oh, come on people! Is this any way to treat an old-
Quiet! Light's out now. You feel like sittin' here all night?

(Walking to the door)
I think it's time to blow this thing, get everybody in it together. Those were the conspicuous ones, yet so intricately laced. Envy was an inevitable one, couldn't have countered it either way. It was too subliminal, and when it arose, I was asleep at the switch. Where was my bebop then...
Man, are you still talking to yourself?
Shut up and close the door. I'm leaving aren't I?