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

[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."