The Good Doctor | Shaun Murphy x Reader

PART 2

I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.

I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard stupid. Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid so stupid that it goes way beyond the stupid we know into a whole different dimension of stupid. You are trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid collapsed on itself so far that even the neutrons have collapsed. Stupid gotten so dense that no intellect can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one second than our entire galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll. Nothing in our universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some primordial fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure essence of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond the laws of physics that we know. I'm sorry. I can't go on. This is an epiphany of stupid for me. After this, you may not hear from me again for a while. I don't have enough strength left to deride your ignorant questions and half baked comments about unimportant trivia, or any of the rest of this drivel. Duh.

Due to extensive research done by the University of Pittsburgh, diamond has been confirmed as the hardest metal known to man. The research is as follows. Pocket-protected scientists built a wall of iron and crashed a diamond car into it at 400 miles per hour, and the car was unharmed. They then built a wall out of diamond and crashed a car made of iron moving at 400 miles an hour into the wall, and the wall came out fine. They then crashed a diamond car made of 400 miles per hour into a wall, and there were no survivors. They crashed 400 miles per hour into a diamond traveling at iron car. Western New York was powerless for hours. They rammed a wall of metal into a 400 mile per hour made of diamond, and the resulting explosion shifted the earth's orbit 400 million miles away from the sun, saving the earth from a meteor the size of a small Washington suburb that was hurtling towards mid-western Prussia at 400 billion miles per hour. They shot a diamond made of iron at a car moving at 400 walls per hour, and as a result caused two wayward airplanes to lose track of their bearings, and make a fatal crash with two buildings in downtown New York. They spun 400 miles at diamond into iron per wall. The results were inconclusive. Finally, they placed 400 diamonds per hour in front of a car made of wall traveling at miles per iron, and the result proved without a doubt that diamonds were the hardest metal of all time, if not just the hardest metal known to man.

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

I have relatives from not so far back that were nimibian tribesman. they happen to have fought lions just to become warriors. I dont know what you know about lions but they aren't like your average cat. I bet you would absolutely **** yourself if you ever saw a real life lion.. especially if you were only holding a sharpened stick and you were naked. come talk to me when some of your family members have gone on the zambutu bibjano; aka the trial of life. until you have done half the **** that they have maybe you shouldnt even talk to me like this. I know you think you're hard and **** but guess what pal.. u arent'. now go grow some namibian genes and we'll talk about this **** for real

I've always said that I wanted to die when I'm 30 years old, when my body and strength are at their relative peaks so that any chances of weakening and atrophy would be avoided. I wanted to leave the world when I'm at my strongest. Those who die young are robbed of life but also avoid the entropic nature of deformation, decay, and aging. They are forever frozen in their beauty and youth, and that they are always at an apex in people's minds. Some of the greatest human beings died or stepped off the stage at their peaks, and are forever remembered as the greatest. It was why Michael Jordan chose to retire during his prime (his first retirement, anyway), and why the death of Heath Ledger and James Dean were so beautiful and in a way, perfectly timed.

If I ever find the perfect mate/love, I won't let that love deform and fade, and I won't let her age and decay. I will kill her at her apex - when my love for her is at its greatest and when she is at the pinnacle of her beauty. I will make sure that she dies at her absolute best under the most exquisite and glamorous conditions. I will pick the brightest and the most beautiful day, hire the best cinematographer, best makeup and wardrobe artists from Hollywood in order to place her under the best lighting, dress her up with the most stylish wardrobe, and put on her the most alluring makeup. Then I will have sex with her on the most expensive bed I could afford and shoot her up while she is having the best orgasm of her life. And then I will stuff and preserve her corpse so that she is forever frozen in the expression of sexual ecstasy, allurement, and youth like Bernini's statue of the "Ecstasy of Beata Ludovica" and mount her to the top of my roof.