Diabetic Psychopathy

He was sick of her. He was bored and restless. The tramps at work stimulated his thirst for new conquests. He thought to himself: This diabetic is taking up so much of my time. I'm sick of her whining. And the needles she's poking. God must be joking. So he thought deeply. About ridding himself of someone so sweetly. I must formulate a plan. It's my time to shine. My needs must be met. I don't have time for this sickness. But I must operate ever so sneakily. Those vials in the frig. Keep this sicko alive. I must get free. I have better prospects. And better games to play. Then an Aha moment came. What if I replace her insulin with salt water instead. She'll go into a coma with no one the wiser And I can play The greiving boyfried at work and get sympathy sex from the vulerable and down trodden then when I catch one I can play this sick game all over again It's a win win for me all over again What a plan I'll impliment it tomorrow and I'll be free to be ME Psychopathic AND Unholy (This is fiction)