A Few Good Days

"GIT your ASS into GEAR girl!" Doc said, more like a command. "3 weeks, you hear me, 3 WEEKS! That's it."
"Can't I Milk my bones a little more, Doc? Can't I?" I pleaded and then added "and speaking of milk, I need to run some errands."
"You CAN't Run!" The Sergeant shouted.
I wondered if the next line was: "You CAN’t handle the truth?"
"You CAN't even walk Fast!" He continued his shout.
Nope, I guess not.
"Or climb ladders" I chimed-in confidently. Then thought about my decision I had made, oops, I shouldn't have said that.
"3 WEEKS then back to Business." His voice became louder. He didn't scare me though.
"But I like being a crip." I stood up for myself. "I like being a gutter punk. I like to sponge off society and git my weekly check from the government."
"You NO Gutter punk!" Doc raised his voice again. Is he going to demand 10 push-ups from me? He quickly pulled off my cap. "You DON'T HAVE dreadlocks!"
I snapped back at him, "Well I USE TOO!" Bart had cleaned me up a month ago. I calmed down a little, "But I still have HAIR under my ARM PITS!" I lifted up my arm and stuck my dark weeds into his face. "You see." I was so proud. I grew them in the last 2 months. They didn't need any water either.
"FOCUS, FOCUS" Doc blasted and snapped his fingers. A spit left his mouth and hit me on the cheek. Now that's too close, I mean, he's just too damn close to me.
"I want to know what YOU CAN do, young lady."
"Thanks" I said with a smile. He called me young.
He grinned and not in a good way. His face started turning red. Am I a small child, and is he my dad and getting aggravated with me?
"Wellll Doccc...
I can write, I can read.
I can draw, that ain't all..."
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT!" Doc interrupted with his roar.
I made a face at him when he wasn't looking. And mocked him too.
"Well I can rock and I can roll.
I can drag and I can tag.
I can stand, on demand.
I can crawl and I can howler.
I can walk with my walker.
I can bend; I can do a half spin.
I can crack and I can pop.
I can do hip-hop, but I can't flip" Doc screamed, "I said CAN!"
"FLOP--I CAN USE a rail. I can hurt my tail.
I can use a cane. It's a real pain.
I can walk slow. I can hang with Joe.
I can be fun. I need some sun.
I can limp and I'm A GIMP!"
Doc’s strong emotion expressed a rhetorical question, "THAT'S ALL?!“ The Grouch slightly paused and then continued with his loud vocals “I don't want to see your face for 3 WEEKS. YOU'RE DISMISSED. Now, git out of my sight & quarters, and don't hit your behind on the way out!"
"Yes Sir." My gimp ass wrist gave him a salute.