Drunky McDrunkerson

Friday night, 8 PM.
A man walks in and asks for his scripts. Three are retrieved. He expects five. I get a whiff of alcohol radiating from him. Hell breaks loose.
Me: "But Mr. McDrunk, I have your potassium and Prilosec, and Lipitor* here."
Drunky: "You're withholding my meds! I'm a heart patient!"
Me: Haeartless patient, that's right. "No, see, TerribleRPh** left this note to fill your Percocet and Ambien tomorrow. You have plenty left."
Drunky: "WHY DID HE TELL ME THEY WERE DONE?!?"
Me: We both wish we knew.
He proceeds to yell at us about getting a phone call that they were done, then not wanting to get phone calls from us, then why his cardiologist has a nurse practitioner write his scripts, and 'so help me G-d' if he finds another bottle with the NP's name on it, and don't ever let her write for him again, and where are his Percs, he needs the meds for his heart, and then he leaves empty handed.
Saturday morning, 9 AM. We realize that TerribleRPh made a mistake, and the Percocets were still too soon. We try to call him twice, get no answer. He shows up...sober, clean, and looking mildly guilty. I break the bad news, and he ACCEPTS IT. Buys the other 4 and leaves! We didn't know if we should call him out on his bad behavior or not, but we figured he is a loose cannon and it was probably better not to start that fight. I also said we should have called the cops and gotten him a DUI at the time. Hopefully now he'll just avoid our weekend. Normally, very little ruffles my feathers, but I hate the possibility of physical violence. This guy was big and could easily take on two small girls behind a 2-foot counter.
*Might not have been those 3. You can replace this with any 3 boring drugs.
**He's really awful. More stories to come on that one.