Pool_2

was rethinking his outraged citizen theory. At County, an operating room was set up and ready to handle the mass casualties. After an explosion, that's typical emergency protocol. Bethdale so-called hospital, a mostly holistic alternative facility with a few odd other extensions was not notified as it wasn't used by Bethdale emergency services. It was a hospital in the same way that chiropractors are doctors, wink wink. County, where Doctor Nathan Ivory was on call, responded quickly. His first task was to get a projection of possible casualties that would be arriving, especially those with head injury. "How many have you got?" Ivory waited expectantly until a hissing static burst then carried back a nasal sounding, "How many you want?" Stone quiet , but bolt upright, a bug eyed Ivory groped the possibilities. Then the speaker crackled again, "Just kidding. There's only one, a man, really big big man." Ivory let go of the deep breath which had him propped. Avery reflexly asked the next obvious medical question, "Any history on him?" The wall speaker responded with a litany of "aliases and priors" as Ivory swooned, "HIS MEDICAL HISTORY. Jesus! I'm not Dick Tracey!" A silence ended with a growly voice sounding like it had authority, "He appears to have a sensitivity to falling brick buildings." "You ass hole!" Ivory mocked at the wall speaker, finally recognizing the voice which was pulling his chain. "I heard that Nathan," the wall shot back. "That you, Dowdy? Oink oink." "Eat me. And it's Captain Oink Oink to you, Tusk," the wall responded. They both laughed. That's what people who deal with emergencies do, call each other ass holes,