Raw meat=bad idea

So I was talking to mom on the phone the other night and I kept hearing this annoying little voice whispering, "Pssst, Grandma...hey, hey Grandma!" Mom would turn away from the phone and ask Derf, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He would smile sweetly and say nothing. So then we started talking again, and the whispering would recommence. Finally about the third time, Mom didn't even put the phone down, she just yelled, " WHAT DO YOU WANT DERF?" To which he replied, "A raw hot dog." "Why, why would you want a raw hot dog?" Mom asked. "Because you won't give me any vodka for my pain, " he replied. "Fine, fine, fine, go out to the freezer and get a raw hot dog!" "Yippee!!!!" Derf took off running/hobbling as fast as his little broken monster leg would let him. When he reached the big old chest freezer in the garage, Mom heard alot more noise than searching for a hot dog should warrant. I told her that was stupid, she should know he's going to beeline for the vodka. She assured me that she duct taped, super glued, and did everything else to the lid to make sure it couldn't be removed. I told her to tiptoe out to the garage and peek on him. Sure enough, he was out there banging away at the bottle cap with his crutch, trying to pry it off with his teeth. One firm rap on the door and he fell into the freezer trying to adjust his "innocent" look. Mom pulled him out by the scruff of the neck, grabbed a frozen hot dog and dragged him back to the couch. He sat there pouting, munching on his snack.

A little bit further into our conversation, Mom sneaked a peek at him and thought he looked a funny shade of grey/green. She asked him what was wrong and he said he didn't feel too good. She told him to go upstairs and get ready for bed and she would come check on him. About ten seconds later we heard this horrendous retching sound. Mom dropped the phone and went running upstairs only to find Derf floating in the toilet bowl amidst the remnants of his raw hot dog. Mom put on her long yellow kitchen gloves, threw him in the shower and hosed him down mightily. I think she used about two gallons of bubble bath on him. She hung him over the shower curtain to dry, but lo and behold, he fell off of it. Mom tried to flush him down the drain, but he wouldn't go....she gave up and just left him in the bathtub.
The next day he found an errant bottle of booze that Mom must have forgotten about. He got totally trashed, tried to swing from the shower rod on his own, but ended up falling and breaking his arm. So now he has a broken arm, a broken leg, and is beginning to suffer from the DTs. Mom spent all night at the ER with him while the others were chained and gagged in the basement.