[Dave]

And now for someone completely unrelated. It's a bit of a backtrack, but eh. I've been busy.


Monty strolls up to the town gate. His knapsack hung casually from his back. He was a sight to see, for a vykker: sawbones in one left hand, map in a right, shapless hat on his head, and a pair of lab goggles around his neck, apparently useless. He looked like a true vagabond.
The gate keeper stopped him

GK: Hey! Who're you?

Monty: I'm Monty. I have been hired as a doctor in this piece of sh*t town. I got my letters and papers. I can read. I'm smart. Move it or lose it, bucko.

GK: Who sent for you?

Monty: The Doc's Place (ooc: crappy "hospital" name)! Who else, you little f*ck?

GK: Gimme your papers.

Monty sighed and handed them over. The gate keeper looked them over, nodding a bit. He looked up at me, grionned a slig grin, and tore them in half.

GK: F*ck you, vykker. You *ssholes made my little daughter go blind. You can rot in the depths of the Odd, for all I care. Beat it.

Monty whipped his sawbones at the punk slig and it was neatly cut into chunks. He felt a giggle rise up out of his stomach, and let it flow. He laughed joyfully, as a child would at the sight of a new puppy. He harnessed his sawbones and waltzed through the gate.

Following directions on the map (and avoiding the eyes of another vykker holding a brown paper package, looking around shiftily), he found the Doc's Place.
He swaggered in and approached the receptionist greeter.

Greeter: Welcome to the Doc's Place! If you have an emergency, step to the scanner on your left. If you have other business, step to the scanner on you right. Have a nice day!

Monty, a bit jarred at the voice, ambled to his right. The scanner bweep bweeped, and another greeter wheeled up from around the corner.

Greeter2: Welcome! Please follow me to a live receptionist!

So Monty followed.

Shortly he found himself in a small, round room. Various patients were scattered about. A mudokon missing an arm. A slig with only two tentacles. A glukkon with half a face. Sick stuff, but Monty felt calmed at the smell of agony.
A Pud Gluk sat behind a desk.

Pud: Can I help you?

Monty: Yeah, I'm Monty. I'm here for the job as Doctor.

Pud: You have papers?

Monty presented his torn papers.

Monty: Hooligans in the streets. If I didn't need the moolah, I would've left it.

Pud: I see ... *reads papers* ... this seems to be in order. It seems Higru has sent for you. Door on the left.

Monty nodded, and waltzed to the door on the left. A very old vykker greeted him. His claws were dripping blood. Monty saw what he hoped was not a vykker body on the table.

Vykker: Ahh! You must be Monty! Greetings! I am Higru! Sorry for my appearance ... a poor sap named Juk was found stabbed near his apartment. Odd knows what happened ... I'm trying to patch him up (Monty doubted this was patching), so if you'll just wait I'll be with you shortly.

Monty walked over to a chair -- made for vykkers, by vykkers! -- and had a sit down. He watched Higru working, and felt the urge to laugh rise up when a particularly red spurt of blood shot up from the table. But he surpressed it for now ...

Higru: Good as new! ... kinda.

Monty looked up and saw a horror: a vykker with no stomach. None! Higru must've removed it.

Higru began to explain his new method of eating and reproducing, but Jak or Juk or whatever didn't seem to notice. Monty thought that the idea of having no stomach would be just as painful to him.

The patient left, and Higru spoke.

Higru: So. Monty. What sort of ... experience do you have at the table?

Monty: *sheepishly* Very little ... I sawed off my legs when I was two. Pops sewed me up and called me a big boy. Does that count?

Higru: Sadly, no. Here, take these keys. They will open up the practice facility. There are cadavers in there you can practice with. Elums and sligs, mostly. Make your time worth it.

He handed Monty some keys and went off to greet another patient. Monty left the room and went up the hall to find the lift ....