PyrosNine
12-17-2010, 09:39 PM
Tonight on a very special episode of General Inhospitable (totally not a Mini-avvy)
"WE NEED TEN CC's OF GOOD HOLIDAY CHEER, STAT!" Dr. Ethington yelled, running down the halls.
"B...b..BAAAAH!" Screamed the patient, so close to death that three spirits he knew in life were hounding him:
His former business partner, the jolly old teacher, and that one girl he tried to touch because he was old and lonely.
The stretcher rolled at a thunderous pace, like a rollercoaster down a bobbing and weaving track amongst the weak and the dead.
"We are losing him people! GET ME SOME DAMN SUGAR DUMPLINGS!"
"BAAAAAAH! BAAAAAH!"
THe coaster shot through the halls, and seemed to catch, and carry the presence of a fourth spirit, a dominating woman.
"What kind of insane malarkey are you up to now Ashley? This man is more likely becoming a sheep than...whatever the hell kind of diagnosis...is that the trustee of our financing bank? WHAT ARE YOU-?"
SHe promptly disappeared as if waved away from existence.
Or conveniently split from the entourage by a narrow corridor and a sharp angle.
"I don't have time for your words! I AM LOSING HIM! Look at all this negativity? It's time for drastic measures. HAND ME THAT CANDYCANE!"
She rode him like a pony, enough to make the teacher cough, the business parter had to hide his head and his lower half in another operating room, while the girl found it all vaguely familiar and slightly traumatizing.
There was a stabbing motion and some bright holiday cheering sensation.
"Bah.. BAH BAAAAH HUUUUUMBUUGGGGG!"
It was another "successful" operation at the Hospital.
As Cuddy watched on, it was also the beginning of a new way of doing things.
* * *
There were clear violations of practices and codes, and with the many miraculous recoveries, there were many of course, unneccesary or unneeded extra cures. Extra arms, bionic implants, psychic powers...and there were some sly comments about people from certain webcomics suffering from a particular malady indicative of their genre, and complaining of a broken arm.
Furthermore, the problem of having one doctor, fresh out of wherever and taking the head ER position (while simultaneously fighting off an alien threat) was one of questionable sanity and resources. It was crazy for her to run around fixing everything. It was crazier for her to do it alone.
So, the board found willing applicants for a special diagnosis and treatment team for severe and obscure maladies.
They were handpicked from the best of the best, the budding roses of the Nuklear Power Medical Academy.
However, they all suffered a painful accident involving a random badger and marmoset attack on a moving bus, causing the newly self-assigned head of the new team to find people to fulfill the new 'judicial cure' requirements.
She filed on craigslist, the bulletin board on the mall, and then just went out into the snow and offered money and free drugs to random people.
You made the team, and this is your fourth attempt.
The previous attempts are not recorded, but they ended pretty smoothly, save for that incident with the soulless donkey and a size D cup size bra.
December 22: CGFTW offices:
"Office Christmas Party."
The party was in it's last embers, with gifts given and enough niceties and veiled threats about christmas bonuses. A few members had left already, taking away their office christmas gifts. The ceo and the general manager had taken away festive godies they had essentially bought for themselves with company money, and those who remained just held seasonal conversation or were in charge of clean up.
Bob, such a lowly grunt who volunteered to clean up just because it meant he could drive off with the expensive snacks without anyone minding. Bob, who had begun packing on the pounds amidst seasonal gloom, watched the fading party with disinterest, munching on a candycane from the company tree, and pondering if he had any chance with the remaining female coworkers who had sipped too much spiced eggnog to notice they'd overstayed their welcome, and hopefully sipped enough to have low enough standards...even the one hanging around mumbling christmas carols while eating gingerbread men, the one they affectionately called 'Miss Piggy.'
He fixated upon 'Miss Piggy.' The flab in her arms, her red faced smile, the way she toothily mumbled something about eskimos. Her eyes were like raisins, her hair like golden flax-
A hand was laid upon his shoulder. He whipped around, like an angry gorilla, to gaze upon his attacker- Bill, from accounting.
"Hey man, I'm about to head out, just wanted to wish you a good one before I...are you okay?"
"URRGH! UUURUGH!" Bob grunted, holding his head. His stomach gurgled, and he let loose the mother of all farts.
"Gross man, that's-"
Bob cut off Bill with a right hook, sending him back reeling.
"GRAAAAAH!" screamed Bob, who charged at Bill, and with a right shoulder tackle, sent him flying out the window. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CavFroD1zGs)
Bob roared in defiance, only for blood to pour out of his nose and collapse to the ground.
Paramedics were called with slurring voices.
December 23, 6:00 AM: Diagnostician Team Room:
Dr. Ethington sat on a leather IKEA couch, cross-legged, in a state of deep concentration. She was attempting to cure a patient's hypochondria by not thinking about it, to a level that he himself didn't think about it, but only time would tell if it the treatment would work.
In her state of nonthought, she didn't think about how the rest of the team was due for the latest case shortly, and were quite late. She didn't think about how annoying that was, when she had a much busier schedule between action science, being a general, modeling, and eating ice cream while laughing loudly. It was an awful lot to not think about , and she almost thought about firing them for an entire season before bringing them back one by one every major episode. Except that Ezio guy, he'd probably take that hard and murder them all.
(Post your entry, and remember to keep all major actions related to diagnosis in text parser format.)
"WE NEED TEN CC's OF GOOD HOLIDAY CHEER, STAT!" Dr. Ethington yelled, running down the halls.
"B...b..BAAAAH!" Screamed the patient, so close to death that three spirits he knew in life were hounding him:
His former business partner, the jolly old teacher, and that one girl he tried to touch because he was old and lonely.
The stretcher rolled at a thunderous pace, like a rollercoaster down a bobbing and weaving track amongst the weak and the dead.
"We are losing him people! GET ME SOME DAMN SUGAR DUMPLINGS!"
"BAAAAAAH! BAAAAAH!"
THe coaster shot through the halls, and seemed to catch, and carry the presence of a fourth spirit, a dominating woman.
"What kind of insane malarkey are you up to now Ashley? This man is more likely becoming a sheep than...whatever the hell kind of diagnosis...is that the trustee of our financing bank? WHAT ARE YOU-?"
SHe promptly disappeared as if waved away from existence.
Or conveniently split from the entourage by a narrow corridor and a sharp angle.
"I don't have time for your words! I AM LOSING HIM! Look at all this negativity? It's time for drastic measures. HAND ME THAT CANDYCANE!"
She rode him like a pony, enough to make the teacher cough, the business parter had to hide his head and his lower half in another operating room, while the girl found it all vaguely familiar and slightly traumatizing.
There was a stabbing motion and some bright holiday cheering sensation.
"Bah.. BAH BAAAAH HUUUUUMBUUGGGGG!"
It was another "successful" operation at the Hospital.
As Cuddy watched on, it was also the beginning of a new way of doing things.
* * *
There were clear violations of practices and codes, and with the many miraculous recoveries, there were many of course, unneccesary or unneeded extra cures. Extra arms, bionic implants, psychic powers...and there were some sly comments about people from certain webcomics suffering from a particular malady indicative of their genre, and complaining of a broken arm.
Furthermore, the problem of having one doctor, fresh out of wherever and taking the head ER position (while simultaneously fighting off an alien threat) was one of questionable sanity and resources. It was crazy for her to run around fixing everything. It was crazier for her to do it alone.
So, the board found willing applicants for a special diagnosis and treatment team for severe and obscure maladies.
They were handpicked from the best of the best, the budding roses of the Nuklear Power Medical Academy.
However, they all suffered a painful accident involving a random badger and marmoset attack on a moving bus, causing the newly self-assigned head of the new team to find people to fulfill the new 'judicial cure' requirements.
She filed on craigslist, the bulletin board on the mall, and then just went out into the snow and offered money and free drugs to random people.
You made the team, and this is your fourth attempt.
The previous attempts are not recorded, but they ended pretty smoothly, save for that incident with the soulless donkey and a size D cup size bra.
December 22: CGFTW offices:
"Office Christmas Party."
The party was in it's last embers, with gifts given and enough niceties and veiled threats about christmas bonuses. A few members had left already, taking away their office christmas gifts. The ceo and the general manager had taken away festive godies they had essentially bought for themselves with company money, and those who remained just held seasonal conversation or were in charge of clean up.
Bob, such a lowly grunt who volunteered to clean up just because it meant he could drive off with the expensive snacks without anyone minding. Bob, who had begun packing on the pounds amidst seasonal gloom, watched the fading party with disinterest, munching on a candycane from the company tree, and pondering if he had any chance with the remaining female coworkers who had sipped too much spiced eggnog to notice they'd overstayed their welcome, and hopefully sipped enough to have low enough standards...even the one hanging around mumbling christmas carols while eating gingerbread men, the one they affectionately called 'Miss Piggy.'
He fixated upon 'Miss Piggy.' The flab in her arms, her red faced smile, the way she toothily mumbled something about eskimos. Her eyes were like raisins, her hair like golden flax-
A hand was laid upon his shoulder. He whipped around, like an angry gorilla, to gaze upon his attacker- Bill, from accounting.
"Hey man, I'm about to head out, just wanted to wish you a good one before I...are you okay?"
"URRGH! UUURUGH!" Bob grunted, holding his head. His stomach gurgled, and he let loose the mother of all farts.
"Gross man, that's-"
Bob cut off Bill with a right hook, sending him back reeling.
"GRAAAAAH!" screamed Bob, who charged at Bill, and with a right shoulder tackle, sent him flying out the window. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CavFroD1zGs)
Bob roared in defiance, only for blood to pour out of his nose and collapse to the ground.
Paramedics were called with slurring voices.
December 23, 6:00 AM: Diagnostician Team Room:
Dr. Ethington sat on a leather IKEA couch, cross-legged, in a state of deep concentration. She was attempting to cure a patient's hypochondria by not thinking about it, to a level that he himself didn't think about it, but only time would tell if it the treatment would work.
In her state of nonthought, she didn't think about how the rest of the team was due for the latest case shortly, and were quite late. She didn't think about how annoying that was, when she had a much busier schedule between action science, being a general, modeling, and eating ice cream while laughing loudly. It was an awful lot to not think about , and she almost thought about firing them for an entire season before bringing them back one by one every major episode. Except that Ezio guy, he'd probably take that hard and murder them all.
(Post your entry, and remember to keep all major actions related to diagnosis in text parser format.)