tlog part nine

ACT THREE, SCENE ONE

GALAXY sits in the residents’ quarters towards the end of a long cover shift. The TV is blaring. GALAXY is slumped on the couch, extremely tired. Around his neck is a thick chain with a large, brick like pager. It has a large bell and hammer on it. The security guard RALPH is also sitting on the couch.

RALPH
(On the phone) Hello, switchboard? Can I have a 1900 number please?

GALAXY’S pager rings like a school bell. He swears loudly.

GALAXY
FUCK!

He grasps the handle on one side and begins winding vigorously. The ringing stops and a small print out emerges. GALAXY peruses it.

GALAXY
Another fucking IV resite…

RALPH
(Into the phone) Hello baby? Yes my name is RALPH. I’m a doctor. Yeah of course I’m a real one, save little kids and everything. So tell me, what are you wearing?

Lights dim.

Lights come back on to reveal a patient in their cubicle. MARTHA is 97 years old and confused. She is having hallucinations, pointing around at the bare walls randomly. There is blood all over the sheets from when she pulled out her previous IV.

GALAXY plods in from the right of stage wheeling an IV trolley.

GALAXY
Hello. My name is GALAXY, I’m one of the doctors. I have come to put a drip in.

MARTHA
NOOOOOO! (Throws herself back into bed) Stay away!

GALAXY
(Sigh) Come on Mrs… whatever. It’s just a small needle.

GALAXY walks over to the side of the bed and tries to take MARTHA’S arm. She hisses at him.

MARTHA
You… parrot-eater. Stay away. I can see the feathers in your mouth.

GALAXY tries to apply the tourniquet.

MARTHA
No, what are you doing, get away from me! Get away!

GALAXY
Fucking hell, I… (Pauses) Martha, you are in hell.

MARTHA
Say what?

GALAXY
(With the voice from the crypt) You died. You’re dead. And you’ve gone to hell.

MARTHA
Oh… but… why?

GALAXY

For fucks sake I don’t know. I don’t why I am here either. The fact is you are eternally damned. And I have to put this drip in. So you can have the unspeakable torture that is… (Looks at fluid chart) Normal Saline. 24 hourly.

MARTHA
24 hourly? Not 24 hourly! Anything but 24 hourly! Oh dear… So who are you then? The devil? (Cackles) You look a bit harmless for the devil.

GALAXY
I am also in hell.

MARTHA
What did you do then, that was so bad?

GALAXY
If only… I knew. Your arm please.

MARTHA
How bad is this Normal-Saline-24-hourly?

GALAXY
Actually, it isn’t too bad. It’s more to keep you alive so we can perpetrate even more unfathomable horrors on your person.

MARTHA
I refuse!

GALAXY
You can’t… er… the vile Poororal, commands you. Besides, it’s hell, what are you going to do? Discharge yourself?

MARTHA
I don’t like needles.

GALAXY
You have to understand that doesn’t matter. We are in hell. What we like or don’t like, what we want to do, what we don’t want to do is irrelevant. Someone or something else makes the decisions.

MARTHA looks away. She begins to cry, moaning loudly. GINGER hears the sound and walks in to the cubicle.

GINGER
What is going on here?

MARTHA
I’m in hell! Help me, I’m in hell!

GINGER
(Scowls at GALAXY, which somehow makes her possibly large breasts even more prominent) It’s all right dear. You aren’t in hell - you’re in hospital. We’re all trying to help you.

MARTHA
He said I was in hell, and he is going to torture me!

GINGER
Did he now?

GALAXY
I…

GINGER
What was your name again, doctor? Betelgeuse? Something like that?

GALAXY
Gary. Gary Chiang.

WAXY enters the stage.

WAXY
Spell?

MARTHA
It’s an angel! Come to save me, from Poororal!

GINGER
Who?

GALAXY
Fuck!

WAXY
GINGER, baby, lets get down to my quarters. I think it’s about time you put the drip in, sun.

GALAXY
What are you even fucking doing here man?

WAXY
What does it look like? (Slaps GINGER on her generous rump)

GINGER
Ooooh! I’m not sure I can leave the patient with this guy…
(Glares at GALAXY)

WAXY
Relax, he’s great, he’s the best intern in universe, whatever.

WAXY and GINGER leave GALAXY alone with MARTHA. GALAXY clenches his teeth. He grabs MARTHA’S arm, and picks up a cannula.

Lights dim.