"Fuck!" you yelled and sat up, holding your elbow. You couldn't move your forearm. "Fucking fuckety, fuck, fuck!"
"Shit, ___! Are you okay?! I'm sorry!" Alfred said.
"Yeah, my arm just naturally bends backwards all the fucking time! No! I'm not fucking okay!" you turned to him as you yelled, and your broken arm bent backwards swiftly. "Shit!" This fucking hurt.
"Stay calm! I'll take you to the hospital!" He swept you up into his strong arms and was ready to bolt out the door until he spotted the plate of breakfast burritos. He stood staring at it for a few long moments while his stomach growled.
"Just grab the fucking plate and go! My arm's broken!" you yelled.
Alfred held you with his left arm and grabbed the plate with his right. Then he hurried out the door with his keys. He opened the car door and set you