Post by Xpress Success on May 3, 2008 7:11:42 GMT -5
-Quite some time has elapsed since the world last laid its eyes on the man whom operates under the moniker of X-Ecutioner. But within these gloomy confines he lies, looking to be a shadow of his former self. Both curtains were open, but no sun was shining through the windows. Today the clouds are reigning supreme over the skyline. To have gone from being the World Champion to this, a decrepit figure in an unconscious, hospitalised state… it truly is as good an example as any that it doesn’t bode well to take the most basic of basics, namely mortality, for granted. The respirator covering half of his face, it is difficult to assess whether his chiseled features have changed a great deal since the ordeal which saw him winding up in this hospital bed. Not that it matters really, the fact that he is still alive serves as testament to the notion that miracles do happen. The rest, the superficial elements, are well down the pecking order of priorities at this juncture. Suddenly, the distinct pattering of footsteps in the distance can be heard. Closer, closer they come until a faint screech is generated by a pair of shoes coming to a hasty halt on the vinyl floor. A slight rattle as a hand inserts a key and unlocks the door, followed by the appearance of another, more lively, figure traipsing into the room. There is something quite familiar about the gentleman, clad in a white jacket with his name badge clipped to the front pocket, bearing a name quite curious indeed. After taking a cursory glance towards the patient and his charts, the doctor makes light of the situation.-
Doctor G. Neric: OK guys, looks like we’ve got a live one here.
-The doctor heartily chuckles at his own joke. It wasn’t a great one, rather it was quite average. But the merriment and joke-cracking don’t distract him from the job at hand too much longer, as he makes use of the ever trusty pager, latched to the belt strap of his hospital-issue pants. Seconds later, a nurse enters the room, ready to carry out the instructions of her superior. A relatively attractive lass, perhaps in her mid-twenties, with a shimmering mane of dirty blonde coloured hair and a well-maintained figure, she wastes no time in seeing what is required of her.-
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: What do you want me to do, Doctor Neric?
-With a friendly demeanour, the doctor promptly responds.-
Doctor G. Neric: Well Angelica… as it would so happen, we have finally been able to find that offshore fund young Miss Carnarvon-Quinn mentioned in passing. Now that our accounts department has finally sent us down the green light, you are to erm, assist, the patient in regaining consciousness. And to think it only took us the better part of three months to track down and access the funds…
-The nurse leans in close and whispers into the doctor’s ear. While the topic at hand is open to conjecture for a few moments, it soon becomes quite apparent that she was indeed keeping the conversation strictly business-oriented. Nothing inappropriate was afoot between these two professionals.-
Doctor G. Neric: You should be able to get a shot from the pharmaceuticals counter downstairs. Just make sure you keep it as average as possible, especially with regards to the dosage administered. We don’t want a repeat of the Wilson debacle. Remember that poor Jenny was forced into early retirement because of that little oversight.
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: I understand Doctor…
-And with that, Nurse Ferreira takes her leave from the room, in search of the shot required to bring the mammoth patient back into the land of the living. With her gone, the doctor turns his focus back to the bedridden figure, his face painted in a state of concern and worry for some reason. His gaze not wavering for so much as a nanosecond, Neric begins muttering to himself.-
Doctor G. Neric: So long as the fucking cops don’t step in and make this situation less average than it already is. That’d be just what he needs at a time like this. Regains his faculties for all of a few minutes, only to be hit with the bombshell that he never shot himself, that there was indeed an element of foul play afoot that night…
-Neric’s muttering gradually lowers to an unintelligible din, until he ceases speaking entirely. From that point, a few more seconds elapse before Nurse Ferreira saunters back into the room, clutching a neatly packaged needle and pair of gloves in preparation for her delegated duties. Neither person utters a peep as Ferreira slips the gloves onto her hands, tests the needle and then injects it into the tube protruding from the patient’s arm. Upon the completion of her task, she takes a couple of tentative steps back and produces a yellow bag with black print, specifically made for disposal of such items as the needle she has just used. Wrapping the used needle into the bag and sealing it, the face of Neric lightens up as some signs of life are shown from the bed.-
Doctor G. Neric: Looks like a job well done Angelica…
-This is met with a beaming smile, the nurse not even making the slightest attempt to be subtle. It is obvious that she is pleased by this positive comment, which to her feels like an extremely flattering expression of validation.-
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: Thank you doctor. By the way, how is your treatment faring?
-The doctor appears a little bemused, but doesn’t begrudge the query.-
Doctor G. Neric: Quite well actually. I haven’t compulsively harped on about things being average, generic, et cetera in a while now. Though I’m not too sure about my psychiatrist’s assertion that my fixation with all things generic stems from some goings-on which took place in my childhood, I’m finding that hard to believe. How about your attempt to seek a promotion… any luck so far?
-The nurse motions to answer, but only manages to stammer a quirky utterance of monosyllabic gibberish. This would be because at that precise moment, the behemoth situated adjacent to her has awoken from his lengthy and enforced slumber. It transpired as if the birth of a new life-form was taking place, the glistening sun casting its rays into the room with an intensity rarely seen sans in the event of an eclipse. The glare was dazzling, like a beam of angelic light blasting through the window, emanating an unexplainable purity. And judging by his first exclamations, his bewilderment and anger are quite pure as well.-
The X-Ecutioner: WHERE THE FUCK AM I?! What is the meaning of all this, why do I appear to be in a hospital ward right now… YOU! Answer me before I muster up the motivation to rise from this wretched bed and choke the answers out of you, if only to pacify this sudden and overpowering bloodlust…
-Rather than reacting as one would expect a woman with a relatively slight stature and slim physique in the presence of what could only be described as a walking battle tank, Ferreira does not freak out at his sudden threat of aggression. Indeed, if she was truly taken aback, the nurse does a most splendid job of not allowing said feelings to betray themselves. Instead of going into hysterics, she calmly turns for the door and takes her leave. The big man’s breath gradually becoming louder as his patience dissipates, Doctor Neric coolly offers the answers his patient is demanding.-
Doctor G. Neric: Firstly… yes sir, you are currently in hospital. The reasons for this? In addition to a nasty cocktail of prescribed pharmaceuticals and, shall I say “less legal” substances, you sustained a gunshot wound through your neck. A great deal of blood was lost, and you were pronounced dead whilst being transported to our facility. However, as luck would have it, the EMT’s managed to revive you moments prior to your arrival. We had to put you into a drug-induced coma in order to undertake certain surgical measures to ensure your prolonged survival. As I am sure you have realised by now, they were a resounding success…
<Meanwhile, in parts unknown...>
-The Reverend awoke with a stir, clutching the quilt and bedcover tightly with his faint gasp betraying that indeed something unwelcome has disturbed his most peaceful sleep. As each moment elapses, the remaining colour steadily drains from his gaunt face, leaving a visage oozing the purest of fear. White as a bed-sheet and lips quivering uncontrollably, he lurches forward and stammers three simple words.-
Reverend Reginald Deakes: He’s… still… alive…
-After this startled utterance, the man of the cloth curls over and makes a vain attempt at renewing his slumber. But given the realization which has struck so suddenly, and the grave implications of said tidings, it is needless to say that there is no more sleep to be had on this night for the Reverend.-
Doctor G. Neric: OK guys, looks like we’ve got a live one here.
-The doctor heartily chuckles at his own joke. It wasn’t a great one, rather it was quite average. But the merriment and joke-cracking don’t distract him from the job at hand too much longer, as he makes use of the ever trusty pager, latched to the belt strap of his hospital-issue pants. Seconds later, a nurse enters the room, ready to carry out the instructions of her superior. A relatively attractive lass, perhaps in her mid-twenties, with a shimmering mane of dirty blonde coloured hair and a well-maintained figure, she wastes no time in seeing what is required of her.-
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: What do you want me to do, Doctor Neric?
-With a friendly demeanour, the doctor promptly responds.-
Doctor G. Neric: Well Angelica… as it would so happen, we have finally been able to find that offshore fund young Miss Carnarvon-Quinn mentioned in passing. Now that our accounts department has finally sent us down the green light, you are to erm, assist, the patient in regaining consciousness. And to think it only took us the better part of three months to track down and access the funds…
-The nurse leans in close and whispers into the doctor’s ear. While the topic at hand is open to conjecture for a few moments, it soon becomes quite apparent that she was indeed keeping the conversation strictly business-oriented. Nothing inappropriate was afoot between these two professionals.-
Doctor G. Neric: You should be able to get a shot from the pharmaceuticals counter downstairs. Just make sure you keep it as average as possible, especially with regards to the dosage administered. We don’t want a repeat of the Wilson debacle. Remember that poor Jenny was forced into early retirement because of that little oversight.
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: I understand Doctor…
-And with that, Nurse Ferreira takes her leave from the room, in search of the shot required to bring the mammoth patient back into the land of the living. With her gone, the doctor turns his focus back to the bedridden figure, his face painted in a state of concern and worry for some reason. His gaze not wavering for so much as a nanosecond, Neric begins muttering to himself.-
Doctor G. Neric: So long as the fucking cops don’t step in and make this situation less average than it already is. That’d be just what he needs at a time like this. Regains his faculties for all of a few minutes, only to be hit with the bombshell that he never shot himself, that there was indeed an element of foul play afoot that night…
-Neric’s muttering gradually lowers to an unintelligible din, until he ceases speaking entirely. From that point, a few more seconds elapse before Nurse Ferreira saunters back into the room, clutching a neatly packaged needle and pair of gloves in preparation for her delegated duties. Neither person utters a peep as Ferreira slips the gloves onto her hands, tests the needle and then injects it into the tube protruding from the patient’s arm. Upon the completion of her task, she takes a couple of tentative steps back and produces a yellow bag with black print, specifically made for disposal of such items as the needle she has just used. Wrapping the used needle into the bag and sealing it, the face of Neric lightens up as some signs of life are shown from the bed.-
Doctor G. Neric: Looks like a job well done Angelica…
-This is met with a beaming smile, the nurse not even making the slightest attempt to be subtle. It is obvious that she is pleased by this positive comment, which to her feels like an extremely flattering expression of validation.-
Nurse Angelica Ferreira: Thank you doctor. By the way, how is your treatment faring?
-The doctor appears a little bemused, but doesn’t begrudge the query.-
Doctor G. Neric: Quite well actually. I haven’t compulsively harped on about things being average, generic, et cetera in a while now. Though I’m not too sure about my psychiatrist’s assertion that my fixation with all things generic stems from some goings-on which took place in my childhood, I’m finding that hard to believe. How about your attempt to seek a promotion… any luck so far?
-The nurse motions to answer, but only manages to stammer a quirky utterance of monosyllabic gibberish. This would be because at that precise moment, the behemoth situated adjacent to her has awoken from his lengthy and enforced slumber. It transpired as if the birth of a new life-form was taking place, the glistening sun casting its rays into the room with an intensity rarely seen sans in the event of an eclipse. The glare was dazzling, like a beam of angelic light blasting through the window, emanating an unexplainable purity. And judging by his first exclamations, his bewilderment and anger are quite pure as well.-
The X-Ecutioner: WHERE THE FUCK AM I?! What is the meaning of all this, why do I appear to be in a hospital ward right now… YOU! Answer me before I muster up the motivation to rise from this wretched bed and choke the answers out of you, if only to pacify this sudden and overpowering bloodlust…
-Rather than reacting as one would expect a woman with a relatively slight stature and slim physique in the presence of what could only be described as a walking battle tank, Ferreira does not freak out at his sudden threat of aggression. Indeed, if she was truly taken aback, the nurse does a most splendid job of not allowing said feelings to betray themselves. Instead of going into hysterics, she calmly turns for the door and takes her leave. The big man’s breath gradually becoming louder as his patience dissipates, Doctor Neric coolly offers the answers his patient is demanding.-
Doctor G. Neric: Firstly… yes sir, you are currently in hospital. The reasons for this? In addition to a nasty cocktail of prescribed pharmaceuticals and, shall I say “less legal” substances, you sustained a gunshot wound through your neck. A great deal of blood was lost, and you were pronounced dead whilst being transported to our facility. However, as luck would have it, the EMT’s managed to revive you moments prior to your arrival. We had to put you into a drug-induced coma in order to undertake certain surgical measures to ensure your prolonged survival. As I am sure you have realised by now, they were a resounding success…
<Meanwhile, in parts unknown...>
-The Reverend awoke with a stir, clutching the quilt and bedcover tightly with his faint gasp betraying that indeed something unwelcome has disturbed his most peaceful sleep. As each moment elapses, the remaining colour steadily drains from his gaunt face, leaving a visage oozing the purest of fear. White as a bed-sheet and lips quivering uncontrollably, he lurches forward and stammers three simple words.-
Reverend Reginald Deakes: He’s… still… alive…
-After this startled utterance, the man of the cloth curls over and makes a vain attempt at renewing his slumber. But given the realization which has struck so suddenly, and the grave implications of said tidings, it is needless to say that there is no more sleep to be had on this night for the Reverend.-
