Playing God

Sometimes we all wonder

how things come to be.

The chain of events.

A leads to "b"

leads to "c" leads to "z."

Each life is made up

of big decisions,

and each day is made up

of a million little decisions.

What shirt to wear.

What street to walk on.

What to eat for lunch.

And all these seemingly

inconsequential choices...

Might change your life forever.

But who can handle

that kind of responsibility?

It would paralyze you

to think about it.

So you have

to trust your instinct.

What the greeks

might call "your character."

And you better pray to

whatever God you believe in...

That your character knows

what the hell it's doing.

I thought I was

a man of character...

Good character...

Until I made a mistake.

A bad one

that changed everything.

That's why I found myself

walking into a lousy L.A. bar

to buy some fentanyl citrate.

Synthetic heroin.

My personal favorite.

You see, when I got high, the

chain of events disappeared.

No past, no future.

Just the sweet, sticky now.

But before I could get home

that night with my goodies,

something happened.

I did a good thing.

One good deed

that started another chain

I wasn't ready for.

And a ride I had

no business taking.

We're set. Okay.

See you later, man.

Hello, my friend.

What's your pleasure?

The usual.

Call 911!

Nobody callin' 911!

He's gonna die! Call Raymond.

What's Raymond gonna do?

He's dyin'.

What you doin', man?

- You gonna call 911?

- No, man.

Then back off.

His lung is punctured.

Get me some rum.

I need a clean knife

and clean towels.

I need, like, a plastic

water bottle.

Oh, and a wire hanger.

Get a wire hanger

and straighten it out.

I need some plastic tube.

A beer pump or a soda pump?

Cut me about three feet,

run the wire hanger through it.

Get me some tape.

Like, three or four

pieces of tape.

Now, get him up on the table.

Go round it up now.

Help me lift him up.

Turn the music down.

Turn it off!

Up.

Get those towels.

Put pressure right here.

Just hold it hard.

Give me that.

Tight. Put it hard.

Put it hard.

Give me the knife.

Lighter. Lighter. Lighter.

Sterilize that.

You got it?

If anybody's squeamish,

look away. Now, hold him tight.

He's gonna jump.

Hold him!

Run some of the wire through

the front of the tubing, like,

three inches, and give it to

me.

Perfect.

Okay, now pull,

pull the wire out.

Pull it out. Pull it out.

Okay, give me some tape.

Thank you.

Get the other end of the tubing

and put it in the bottle.

Get some tape and make it

airtight around the opening.

You with me? You got it?

- Yeah.

- All right.

Squeeze the bottle first.

Make it as airtight as you can.

Okay, hold it low.

Now, release the bottle.

Release it.

He'll live, but you better

get him to a hospital now.

Obviously, I'd seen a lot of

awful things done to the body.

I mean, I'd seen the results,

but I'd never actually seen

shots fired before.

Not at a man.

Not two feet from me.

It didn't scare me as much

as I thought it might, though.

Maybe because I knew

I could repair the damage,

undo what had been done.

I guess I should have

felt better after saving

that man's life, but I didn't.

It just made me miss more

what I once was.

Like a prisoner getting

one day out in the sun,

it just made the prison seem

that much more dismal.

On the way home, I said,

tonight, I will not get high.

I might just as well have said,

tonight, I will not breathe.

There's no one else now.

It's you or no one.

I've been up 28 hours.

There's no one else now.

It's you or no one.

Sometimes I feel like

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