I just smashed my right thumb a few minutes ago. I was closing the door after parking my car at LexCorp, and didn’t notice that I had left a finger in the way. At first, it didn’t really hurt, I just felt jammed. For a fraction of a second, I even laughed at my clumsiness. Nevertheless, as the door slowly began crushing my thumbnail, I realized this was no joke. Frantically, I managed to open the door and pull my finger out in about two seconds flat.
The pain was unbearable. The desire to scream and curse like a sailor, irresistible. But no matter how justifiable, this impulse had to remain miserably unfulfilled, as I was in a public space and really didn’t want to bring attention upon myself. All I was left with was clutching my maimed limb and trying to somehow contain the primal scream that was hatching in my lungs. My face was red, my jaw was locked, my eyes swollen. To a casual observer, I must’ve looked like I was simply holding my breath (and my hand) forcefully. On the inside, however, I was seeing red all over.
As time passed, the pain reduced to practical extinction. It only hurts when I bump my thumb into something. The thumbnail feels kinda numb. The space above the cuticle is red, which means it will probably turn blue over time. And of course, my nail will grow crooked after this.
Why was this so funny when it happened to Elmer Fudd?
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