Calvin's leg first started itching around Midnight. It was so intense at one point that it actually woke him up (which was quite the feat as he was such a sound sleeper that he was pretty sure that he could sleep through the Apocalypse) and seemed to get worse with every passing second. He clawed at it frantically but it offered no relief so he kicked the blankets to the side and turned on the lamp on the nightstand in order to get a better look at it so he'd know what it was he was up against

To his surprise he discovered an angry blood red rash roughly the size of a quarter on the inner calf of his left leg. It didn't look like a heat rash or any bug bite that he'd ever seen before but he wasn't too worried about it as it wasn't anything that a copious amount of Calamine lotion wouldn't take care of so he hopped off the bed and headed down the hall to the bathroom (stopping once or twice on the way to scratch).

It seemed to be getting worse as he searched for the Calamine lotion in the medicine cabinet so he had to take a break from looking for it to scratch his leg once again. After scratching at it as hard as he could for well over a minute (which did very little to ease his discomfort) he resumed his hunt for the miraculous pink lotion that always knocked out the uncomfortable itching from poison ivy, poison oak, or mosquito bites within mere seconds.

Unable to find it in the medicine cabinet he looked under the sink and after a few desperate minutes he spotted it hiding in the back corner behind a huge bottle of Listerine that he'd had forever but never bothered to open. After taking a second to scratch his leg again he grabbed the Calamine and plopped down on the edge of the tub with it. He hastily unscrewed the top and didn't bother to pick it up when it fell to the floor and rolled behind the commode, joining all the empty toilet paper roles that he'd been meaning to pick up for weeks. He dabbed some in his hand and applied it to the rash (wondering if it had really gotten bigger in the last couple of seconds or if it was just all in his head) then sat there and waited for it to do its magic so he could go back to bed.

Unfortunately it didn't and the itching only got worse as if the Calamine had just pissed the rash off. Undaunted he put another glob of it on his leg and tried to convince himself that it was helping even though deep down he knew that it wasn't.

He gave up on the Calamine moments later after he slathered the rash (which now looked to be the size of a silver dollar) with the rest of the bottle and still hadn't gotten any relief. He searched the cabinet under the sink for something else that may help and after going through Cortizone 10, Benadryl anti-itch cream and even Gold Bond jock itch ointment out of desperation the itch continued to get worse with every passing second.

He scratched his leg as hard as he could until it actually started bleeding but it still didn't help. Thinking back to when he was a kid and had chicken pox he remembered his mother giving him a bath in oatmeal so he scratched his leg for a little bit, slapped some more Cortizone 10 on it (which did nothing to help) and made his way to the kitchen.

After ransacking the kitchen cabinets he discovered to his dismay that he didn't have any oatmeal so he grabbed a bag of frozen corn out of the freezer and put it on his leg, telling himself that it would definitely help (it didn't). He threw the corn across the room minutes later and spent an entire three minute period scratching his leg as he tried to think of some other home remedies that might help him but had trouble concentrating due to the fact that he was itching so badly.

He washed the dried blood and everything else off of his leg and saw to his horror that the rash really was getting bigger. It was the size of his fist and when he noticed that it was spreading up his leg toward his knee he considered calling 911 since he didn't know what else to do. He thought about it for a while and in between scratching his leg and trying to come up with some other way to defeat the itch he decided against it. He would feel stupid if he called 911 just because he had an itchy leg and if word got out about it he'd never hear the end of it from everybody in town.

He decided that since the cold didn't help that maybe heat would so he turned on the water in the kitchen sink and let it get as hot as possible before he climbed up on the counter and stuck his leg under it. It burned like hell and he actually cried out in agony but it did nothing to ease his itching. It seemed to be getting worse and worse to the point that it was maddening. He spotted the scouring pad beside the dish drain and without a second thought he snatched it up and started rubbing his leg with it without a second thought to the point that he started removing his skin but the itch remained.

Crying out in frustration he threw the bloody scouring pad (that had pieces of his skin stuck to it) in the kitchen sink and flung open the drawer that held the electric knife. Feeling completely out of options (and a little crazed) he plugged the cord of the knife into the wall socket and after wondering if he could really go through with it he turned it on and proceeded to touch the blade to his leg, only slightly aware of the fact that his right arm was beginning to itch as well as he went to work.