Some pain simply defies the idea of “restraint.”
As in, “If you don’t immediately pump me so full of opioids that I crap heroin, you had best restrain me or I will punch you hard enough to bruise your DNA.”
Hey, pain tolerance differs vastly from one individual to the next. Some people can happily twiddle their thumbs and sing “Polly Wolly Doodle” while receiving a color tattoo of the Sistine Chapel ceiling all over their lower naughty bits. Others won’t pop a pimple without a Vicodin on hand.
Be it a bullet wound or blister, cover your next boo-boo with these bandages decorated with Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” and let the existential anguish drown out your skin-deep agony.
The average “ouchie” wasn’t exactly what Munch had in mind when he painted this enduring masterpiece, but who knows how deeply any physical agony actually aches? Perhaps that papercut sliced you in places no amount of Neosporin will ever penetrate. Every metal tin holds 15 7.6 cm by 2.5 cm latex-free adhesive bandages with sterile gauze and a free prize to reward your endurance of such excruciating torment.
