Island of Good Riddance (standard:humor, 683 words)
Author: Juggernaut	Added: Sep 07 2011	Views/Reads: 2505/1684	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Juggernaut goes thru a strange experience of donating all his internal organs at a medical facility on the Island of Good Riddance, only realizing it was a daydream during a deep sleep after eating too much pasta.

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an RN with a diploma obtained on line.” 

“I am sorry if I am talking too much, you know this is my last 

conversation.” 

“Not really, the doctors will have a final chat with you 

before you are put to sleep.” 

“The procedure is simple right?” 

“Well, first we place two IV ports, one on each on your hand; 

through one port we pump potassium chloride solution to relax your 

muscles that include your heart muscles to stop working, then we inject 

strong sedation meds through the other port to put you to permanent 

sleep; then your organs will be removed to be tested ad transported for 

transplant into needed persons, and that's that.” 

“You keep my name confidential right?” 

“We don't keep any records here; either on organ donors or 

recipients.”  “People from all walks of life visit us; people that 

publicly oppose stem-cell research, abortion, assisted-suicide and 

right-to-life members visit for receiving organ transplant.” “Persons 

wanting to end their life thru organ donation or not, and those want to 

extend their life by receiving organ transplant becomes anonymous here.”


“Sounds good; who established this facility?” 

“A group of doctors discovered this uninhabited tiny rocky 

island that appeared after an volcanic eruption in the international 

waters of Indian Ocean and declared it as an independent republic 

of ‘Good Riddance.'  “The constitution of this island nation allows 

people to donate their living body for organ transplant. ” 

“Good riddance; considered dead,” shouted Juggernaut. 

“Wake up Juggernaut, wake up; you fell asleep almost went into 

coma after eating all that pasta for lunch,” Juggernaut's wife tried to 

wake him up. 

“I thought I am dead,” Juggernaut looked around in disbelief. 

“It was John Candy who died in sleep after eating over a kilo 

of pasta for dinner and never woke up.” “All that pasta you ate for 

lunch put you to deep sleep and day dream.” 

“What about my brain?” 

“What about it; it is there intact and still restless.” “I 

will get you a hot cup of tea to wake you up to work in the backyard.” 

“What about the Island of Good Riddance?” 

“Are you still dreaming?” 


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