Wheelchair Jokes Novels & Stories

" Felicia spilled. "She's doing great, or will I say he's doing great," I said playfully to Felicia. "Scoffs, fuck it, you two, you guys are a lot of vibe to be around with, a fuckin gem," Jackson complimented us both. "So why are you in a wheelchair, Jackson? Sorry to ask?," Felicia grew inquisitive. "Uhm, it's kind of complicated, Felicia; maybe I'll tell you later," I said a bit annoyed to her. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry for my foul tongue. I get it now, a rough road you guys have been through lately. I probably understand a bit now," Felicia swiftly responded.

Charlie replied without even looking back at him, “I’d rather do it by myself than work with a clumsy person like you. I don’t want Mr. Lee to fall and hurt himself.” “What? Are you sure you can do it alone?” Jake glared at him in disbelief. Ignoring him, Charlie walked behind the wheelchair, stretched his arms on the wheels, and grabbed them firmly. Then, he lifted the wheelchair as if he was a forklift and walked up the stairs steadily.

I kicked the chair next to me hard enough to send it sideways. "Joking around? Then why don't you put your own names and numbers out there and sell yourselves?" I looked them dead-on, one at a time. "Cut the chatter. We're going to the dean's office. Or I'm calling the police." The air fell silent for a few seconds–then they burst out laughing. Tara lifted her chin and tossed her hair. "Even if you take it to my dad, what is he going to do, Sophie? Really?"

Brian replied quickly as he turned around. “Leaving so soon?” Warren’s teasing voice caught him. Brian quickly halted. Then he turned around to see Warren in his wheelchair. He strode forward as Warren’s men blocked his way, leaving him more than 1 meter away from Warren. Brian looked at Warren seriously. "Warren, who are you without these men?" Brian sneered. "Who are you without your grandpa's money?" he added. "Oh, I see! Maybe you needed to be reminded to keep your feet on the ground, that's why you're in that wheelchair, huh?" Brian pointed at Warren's wheelchair, making an insulting smile before turning around and walking away with his friends.

She frowned and thought that it would not be so good in a few days. She tried to stand up with the unhurt foot. "Do you want to become a cripple?" A low male voice sounded at the door. Stacy looked up and saw the man in the wheelchair. He slid into the room with a wheelchair. "Your ankle has hurt your bone. If you continue to exert force, you won't be able to recover in ten days or half a month. If it's serious... you'll be the same as me." In the last sentence, he deliberately raised his voice and poked fun at himself, "Making a wheelchair is not a happy thing."

pressing the nurse call button and asking male nurse Bernard when she was going to get her goddamn crutches "You need a wheelchair," Bernard said when he finally came. "Why do I need a wheelchair? I'm not paralyzed." You already took off that sick bandage and put a cast on my broken leg. Just give me crutches and let me move. " "If you want to move, you're going to have to ask for help." "Oh geez, what kind of hospital is this?" "The kind that cares for you, Miss. You'll get your wheelchair, just not right now." "Crutches, I don't want a stupid wheelchair, that's way too stressful, plus I can move my body. Remember, I said I'm not paralyzed, it's just one freaking broken bone."

All my muscles had the shaky feeling one gets after a hard workout. “So why are you in a wheelchair?” I asked, my curiosity ignoring any kind of filter. “Well, when you get your neck broken isn’t good on the spinal nerves,” Dean said with a smirk. “He’s our little cripple now,” he added, then yelped as Andy ran over his foot with one of his wheels. “Hey, what was that for!” “Really, Dean, really,” I said, shaking my head at him. “So what is going on now?” I took Ryder’s hand in mine. God help me, but I enjoyed touching him or him touching me... yeah, so not creepy at all.

It would take me weeks if not months to earn enough from my waitressing job to cover this expensive as fuck wheelchair. I confirm everything, making double sure the wheelchair will get delivered to the nursing home and then the right patient tomorrow afternoon. The cashier throws out a catty, “Well, you could be there if you’re so worried,” that I respond to with a glare and a roll of my eyes. I don’t have time for her shit.

The room went dead quiet when I said I would take the prize, but that quiet did not last. A second later, laughter thundered through the air. Lily Smith was the loudest, doubling over with tears streaming from her eyes. "How else could she be the top seller?" she cackled. "A woman like her has to have skin as thick as a rhino." I ignored her snide comments and kept my cool. "Just to be clear," I said, "since the company so generously 'rewarded' me with bathroom duty, that's all I'll be doing for the next three days. Everything else is off my plate."

But after we entered the millennium force, he didn’t want to get into another one. “No, I am done,” he said, and I could no longer hold my laughter. He glared at me as I laughed, the people staring at us. He was screaming so hard, holding my hand like I was about to disappear, and it wasn’t even that bad. He is a pussy. “Are you done?” he asked, and I had to hold his wheelchair because I was weak from laughing. “But we have more tickets,” I said, standing straight. “Burn it or give it to someone,” he said, and I pouted.