Once you and your companion finally get into San Fransiscolt, you really wish you hadn't. Dead bodies, homeless people, and gays line the streets, and you frequently aren't sure which group a given street-lump belongs to. Worst of all, your encounter with Shrek has left you with severe problems keeping your bodily fluids on the inside, and now you are bleeding from multiple orifices for no discernible reason. Leslie is dutifully ignoring this, as fixing it would cost money.
When the two of you pass a health clinic, you are accosted by a lanky queer, who says, "Come on in, my good immigrants! We have free health care!"
Leslie tries to push past him, but he bodyblocks her. "We have free treatments for drug addiction, gang violence, and…" he looks at you expectantly, "STD's, among other things."
"Come on, we're leaving." Leslie says, finally maneuvering around him, but you slip and fall in the puddle of human slurry that has formed beneath you for standing still too long. When you try to stand, you find that you can't, you just slip around.
"Come on, I can't keep going like this," you squeak out.
She is forced to admit to herself that you might really need assistance. But where? All the private companies in the state were nationalized by the black Jew, Secretary General Schvartzenigger, and she couldn't afford them anyways. The state-run facilities can do nothing intentionally successful, too, being structured around minority status rather than skill, so you can't use them, either. *Except,* she thinks, *we can.*
"Hey, do you offer abortions?" She asks the thing before her. "If so, how late?"
"Why, we offer abortions up to the three-hundredth trimester as part of the her-body-her-choice initiative!"
Leslie smiles and motions to you, saying, "We're illegal immigrants, so I can't give you any documentation, but this is my son and I want him gone."
As the stick of a pony drags you by the collar into the filthy clinic, its once-white walls reduced to rusty brown by years of strikes by the janitor's union, you try to understand what is going on. Fear takes over, and you would be thrashing about if you weren't exhausted from walking while fighting Shrek's cringe compilation of viruses. You do not notice that a needle is being passed around, taking blood from every AIDS victim in the clinic (meaning every patient and moPost too long. Click here to view the full text.