The doctor paces outside in the hallway in front of room 405. He chews on his pen and turns the clipboard around, perplexed by the x-ray slide.
A nurse approaches him with a concerned expression.
Nurse: Should I tell him, or will you?
Flopping the folded back topsheets back over the clipboard, the doctor slumps in defeat. He scratches his head vigorously and wipes off a bead of sweat from his brow.
Doctor: No, no, no. It's my prognosis. I will tell him. I just wish I had something better prepared.
Nurse: Tell him the truth, and let him sort it out. Something about him tells me he has seen some pretty crazy things happen in his short life. I'm sure this won't come as a surprise to him.
Doctor: Considering his past mishaps, maybe you're right. Thank you for the encouragement Darla. You're the best.
Nurse: No, you are, Ben.
As he opens the door to room 405, a TV up in the corner of the room is showing laps of a live NASCAR race going underway. Behind a curtain, a man is shouting colorful obscenities at the screen that make little sense.
The doctor peels back the curtain.
Lying on the gurney is a shell of a man. Once known as a champion professional wrestler with athleticism and unparalleled energy. Now he lies weakly with porcelain white skin smattered with bed bruises. Never a muscular man, but now he is a scarecrow. His skin folds over his boney skeleton, and his face has aged beyond his years.
Doctor: Mr. Huckleberry, may I have a few words with you? The lab results are in.
Huckleberry: Lay it straight, Doc. My pappy died when he was 28. Am I gonna sharer the curse of my family and kick the bucket before I meet my grandkids?
Doctor: You have children?
Huckleberry: No... I mean, my cousin Ruby has four, but we ain't sure if one of 'ems mine or not.
Doctor: What about a wife or family members? Should I invite them to the hospital to help make you more comfortable? You might be here for a while longer.
Huckleberry: Fat chance. I got cousins, sisters, brothers, mothers, uncles, aunts, and relatives up the yin-yang from here to Missouri. But don't worry, I ain't got nobody in my life who cares a lick about me. I can handle the news, whatever it is. Lay it on me.
Doctor: Whatever you say. Maybe it's better if I show you.
The doctor drop the clipboard with the x-ray onto the lap of Huckleberry.
Huckleberry: What in the high hills is that? Is that? You mean I....
The doctor nods.
Huckleberry: I swallowed...
The doctor nods.
Huckleberry: No, no, no. That can't be right.
Doctor: Oh, I'm quite certain. Would you mind telling me how you managed this? This is probably the first case in recorded history I have heard of this happening.
Huckleberry: My brother Eddie swallowed a live piranha when he was twelve. Might have survived if the neighbor girl hadn't surprised him from behind by tickling him to death. Then there was my uncle Harry. He swallowed a sea urchin. Started choking on it. Unfortunately when my pappy applied the Heimlich maneuver on him to rescue him, it done him in. My nephew Darren had everyone believe he swallowed a hammer, but when they took him to get looked at, the good news is the handle was only half way up his---
Doctor: Okay, that's enough!
Huckleberry: No worries. Little Darren came out fine. We call her Darby now after the last operation she had.
The doctor scribbles some notes down.
Doctor: I'll have to look at your, umm... family history of medical files a bit more closely. It sounds like your family has a propensity for...
Huckleberry: Accidents and dying early. Yeah, our family crest is a tombstone on a field of bones. Look, I appreciate you looking after me, but I best be gettin' going. The boys at the ring are wonderin' where I've been these past few months, and I don't want them to know about my little accident and that I had to go back to the hospital again. I just want to get back to training like nothing ever happened. Maybe nobody will notice.
Doctor: Nobody will notice? Huckleberry, you plan on wrestling? I'm not even sure if you can walk.
Huckleberry: Sure I can. I walked to the can this morning. Just hand me that walkin' stick will yeah? Yeah, the one with the hillbilly knapsack tied to it.
The skinny little Appalachian slides off the gurney uses the walking stick for support as he stuffs his hairy toes into a pair of pink bunny slippers. And as fast as he gets up, he shakes the doctor's hand and walks out the door.
The doctor panics as he looks at the green glowing liquid dripping off his fingers.
Doctor: Darla? Darla!? I need your help stat!
The nurse peaks her head into the room.
Nurse: What's wrong Ben? Where's the patient?
Doctor: Hell if I know! Now help me get this radioactive contaminant off my hands. We need hazmat team to clean up the bathroom, and then we need to alert the police.
Nurse: Why? What happened?
Doctor: Huckleberry swallowed two gallons of radioactive hazardous waste. Half of it is running down through the sewers now, and the other half is checking out of the hospital as we speak. Anyone who comes into contact with that walking corpse is going to be in grave danger.
Thank you for reading my original writing. This is a fictional satire, and my roleplay submission for Ultimate Wrestling.
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