Clinic Evening Hours 11/04

[death-n-binky.livejournal.com]

*DEATH strolls into the clinic, if a skeleton could stroll, being careful to move his hips so that the light reflected off the duct tape he was wearing. In addition to his new duct tape fetish, he is covered in political buttons, most pertaining to zombies or fashion. He also has his trust rubber duck, in hopes that, perhaps, today it will turn back into his note to exuse absense. It quacks instead.

Knowing that Lisa planned to bring by pizza for dinner, DEATH had done some quick research on what was typical of mortal dinner plans in this plane. Confident in his reasearch, DEATH ties a bowtie around his neck, lights several candles and ties some balloons, black of course, to the chair for good measure. The balloons, for some unknown reason, say, "Happy Aniversary", but DEATH seems pleased.

He also has paper plates, enough for both him and Lisa, the two patients in residence tonight and any others that may happen to come by. Taking a seat at the desk, he waits for the other assistant to arrive and begins working on organizing any paperwork he finds lying around.

The clinic is open, the assistant(s) are in, so, please, feel free to bleed and/or eat DEATH's pizza.*

I HOPE THIS PEPPERONI TURNS OUT TO BE PLEASANT. I AM HAVING TROUBLE FINDING GOOD CURRY IN THE AREA... I HOPE THE BOW TIE ISN'T TOO MUCH. THE WEBSITE SAID 'SPECIAL OCCASSIONS'. SURELY THE FIRST TIME SOMEONE EATS PIZZA IS A SPECIAL OCCASSION?

*DEATH touches the bowtie uneasily while the rubber duck on the desk quacks reassurance.*

Comments

[lisacuddy.livejournal.com]

Lisa walks in, a pizza box in both of her arms. She melts from the cuteness that is the bowtie.

"One pepperoni pizza, coming right up," she says, putting it down on the table, smiling at DEATH's thoughtfulness to set up a table. "You know, when I was a kid, I wasn't allowed to eat this. Makes it taste even better."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna comes in, looking almost pleasant. Might be because she just spent an hour shooting.

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

Bree walks in, her normally perfectly groomed hair unkempt, and a murderous look in her eye.

She has...



these cats with her, one tucked under each arm. One is hissing and trying to scratch her arm, but Bree is not paying her any attention.

She walks up to the counter. "Do you work here?"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna looks at Bree and tries not to get too close to the kitties. "Yes I do. Can I help you?"

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

She lets out a little sigh of relief. "Excellent. I need you to kill these cats for me."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna starred. "Ma'am?"

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Well, there wasn't a vet's office open in town. You must have those..." she waves one hand awkwardly, still with a cat in that elbow, "gases around here somewhere, don't you?"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna blinked. "Ma'am, we're a health clinic. We don't put down poor, defenseless animals. Have you tried looking for someone in town who might like to take them instead?"

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Well, they're a menace to the general population! And you don't have to... I don't know, take them out back and drown them in the river or anything like that. You must have some sort of humane way I could take care of this problem. Have you met some of the people in town? I don't want the cats to end up on a menu somewhere. Even these filthy beasts deserve better than that, although not by much."

She looks down as one of the cats hisses. "Oh, and I don't care if you did hear me, Sarah!"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

"Ma'am, I'm a healer. If you have cuts, I can help you with that. I'm sorry, I can't put down a cat, I have one of my own. May I urge to try to find another owner for them? And I'm sure you can specify that you don't want them chopped up for dinner."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"That's the thing though, I really need them dead. Can't you just hook up a tank, give me a mask, and leave the room for 15 minutes or so?"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna starred at her, not really believing what she was hearing. "...no. Ma'am, I'm sorry, no. If you'd like, you can talk to the two doctors who work here."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Aren't they off... fornicating?

Really, they are my cats, I can have them put to sleep legally. Maybe you have some sort of injection? Just point to the right drawer, you don't have to say a thing."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna opened and closed her mouth a few dozen times. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, no. And um, Townies are not allowed on campus."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"I'm on the faculty, dear. I am allowed to use the facilities. See, you won't get in any trouble if you just help me out, can't you?"

Bree is growing more flustered, as one cat continues to struggle, pulling out a mini-dagger and stabbing Bree in the forearm, leaving a pinprick size hole.

"Oh, damnit! Pardon my French."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna blinked. "Ma'am, I cannot allow you to use the clinic to kill your cats. And that was in English." She gets out a bandage and some antiseptic for the cut, though.

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

She sighs deeply. "Then, do you have any laxatives?" she says in a shockingly plain tone.

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna raises a brow. "For whom and what do you need them?"

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"I can say truthfully that I have a dire need for them, and they are for... flushing purposes."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna closed her eyes and counted to ten. Slowly. "Ma'am. I cannnot give you anything unless you tell me what it is for."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"How explicit do I have to be? I just asked you for laxatives, that's not in any way vague, is it?"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna sighed. "Do you need them for yourself, your cats, your..." Alanna fishes in her mind for who else there might be. "family?"

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

She considers for a moment, but her annoyingly pesky morals get in the way of how she knows she should reply for maximum effect. Her frustrations hit an apex.

"For the cats. They ate my grandmother's pearls! Sarah went at the strand with her ginzu knife or whatever the hell it is, and started popping them like your boss here pops those pills of his, and I think Spider ate a couple out of sheer amusement!

I have been tolerant of many things. The homemade molotov cocktails, the fight club meetings on the patio with strays they bring in off the street, the dirty gis on the bathroom floor, and Spider here refuses to use the litter box. But this is the last straw!"

She slumps her shoulders, face painted with defeat. One cat makes a small hissing noise and she looks at it with rage before growling back.

"Do you see? Please, I need your help. I knew I should have headed down to the duck pond with a trash bag and a handful of rocks."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna tried not to laugh, really. "Um, would you like for them to talk to my cat? And maybe you can take away their knives?" She heads to the back room and returns with the laxatives and a form for Mrs. Van De Kamp to fill out.

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"You try taking away all their weapons. I dare you. They're the feline equivalents of Swiss Army Knives."

She gratefully begins to fill out the form, leaving Sarah and Spider on the ground for a moment.

She turns to them, "I wasn't kidding. Do. Not. Move."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna is pondering how she's going to fill in the charts for this one. "I hope you get your pearls back."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, sweetie." She says honestly, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes as she completes the forms and hands them back to Alanna. "You seem to like cats. Want these two? You can have them! Free. I'll give you all their little cat stuff too. I've made them outfits."

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna bit her lip. "No thank you, I have my own. But like I said, if you'd like for him to talk to your cats, I can ask him to."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Your cat isn't... working for the underground, is he?"

[threeweapons.livejournal.com]

Alanna stared. "No."

[mrsvandekamp.livejournal.com]

"Are you sure? I think they communicate in some sort of code."