Back in the 1980s, a gentleman named Ron Woodroof was diagnosed with AIDS and told that he had little more than a month to live. Angered by the “just die already” approach to people with AIDS back then, Woodroof decided to take matters into his own hands. In a matter of weeks, he was smuggling mass amounts of unregulated drugs and medicine into the US in an effort to keep himself and others alive a little bit longer – which he succeeded in for years. Inspired by his rebellious heroism, Hollywood laid claim to the rights to Woodroof’s life story, and a couple of decades later, Dallas Buyers’ Club was born.
The film sparked debates about making it legal for certain patients to experiment with medications before they are FDA-approved. Some believed that the dying had a “right to try” anything that could offer hope in their final hours, while others saw the practice as reckless and dangerous. Federal lawmakers joined in the newfound interest in terminally ill patients’ rights. and soon a motion dubbed the “Dallas Buyers’ Club Bill” was put forward. Only a year after the movie’s release, a handful of states already began adopting said bill. After two years, half the United States had taken up the controversial policy, paving the way for a national law. The Dallas Buyer’s Club movement even allowed for such a shift in perspective that some are now advocating that patients should receive aid in affording their experimental treatments. Thanks, Obama. No, seriously.
“See that guy over there? He’s the punk I was talking about.” Gus points at the guy working at the counter.
Vivian eyes the guy. He looks miserable, but definitely not the ‘literal devil’ Gus was making him out to be. “Who… Him? Doesn’t seem the type. Looks like a pretty nice guy to me.“
“I know I look like Jom Cruise, and someone this good looking can’t possibly have the brains to hack into the news to air dickbutts at primetime but give me 24 hours and a Bluebull and I guarantee there’ll be dickbutts on the news tomorrow night-”
Vivian holds up her pizza, interrupting him, “I disagree, you’re more like ahh… mutt of Steven Bushcemi, Mowan Atikinson, and maybe if Cruise has a twice removed inbreed second cousin-”
“Look, the point is, I know he did it. He cheated alright. I don’t believe for even one second that he actually won, especially without some kind of bot or hack.”
“So what, you’re gonna stalk him at his work like a creep till he confesses? Orrrr maybe you should just admit that you lost to a noob and try to enjoy this pizza? That sounds like the better plan.”
“I- have a plan alright…” Gus muses as an idea pops up, tapping his fingers on his chin like some kind of cartoon villain.
Vivian gives a defeated sigh and continues eating the greasy, artery-blocking-but-oh-so-good pizza. She knows even the apocalypse can’t change his mind now that it’s made up.