tlog part six

ACT TWO, SCENE TWO

The reception desk has been replaced by a surgical table. On the table is a cut out of MRS DIOU, its four limbs tied to the corner of the table with rope. There is the sound of mechanical ventilation and the obligatory pointless beeping machine associated with medicine. GINGER stands towards the head of the table, acting as both scrub nurse as anaesthetist. Despite being in surgical scrubs, her possibly large breasts appear even more accentuated than ever. WAXY, covered in blood, is busy over the prone body of MRS DIOU, wielding the tools of his trade. GALAXY holds a gigantic retractor. He looks dead on his feet. The massive clock above their heads read 2230 hours.

WAXY
Artery.

GINGER hands him the artery forceps.

WAXY
Gauze.

GINGER hands him a wad of gauze. There follows a moment of silence. This is interrupted by GALAXY falling asleep and losing his grip on the retractors.

WAXY
What the fuck are you doing? Hold those damn retractors!

GALAXY
(Snaps awake) FUCK! I mean, sorry sir…

WAXY
Is this all too boring for you? (His voice builds in a crescendo) Do you not appreciate the excitement and technical difficulties of this operation? Do you not stand in awe of my astounding surgical prowess? What is wrong with you?

GALAXY
Uh no sir. I -

WAXY
(Cutting him off) Bah! How can you guys call yourself doctors? You new interns are all the same - absolutely useless! In my days we had to work and sleep on the job! Forty-hour shifts were the norm! Weekends off were unheard of! Medicine was our life! We breathed and ate and shat and fucked medicine! (Gestures with his scalpel) It was a trial by fire. We earned our right to be called doctors. Now look at you. You puny, insignificant, ignorant little worm. What good are you? You cannot even last four hours holding a retractor! Bah!

GALAXY
Well it's not exactly very stimulating holding this retractor.

WAXY
Oh, are we boring you? Would you like me to make this more interactive? Fine, I will. Tell me, what are the layers that we've cut through to reach the peritoneal cavity?

GALAXY
Uh - skin? Muscle?

WAXY
SKIN! MUSCLE! Which skin? Which muscles?

GALAXY
Uh - the abdominal skin and muscle?

WAXY
(Shakes his large Soviet head sorrowfully) And what is this structure I'm indicating with my scalpel?

GALAXY
It looks like a pink tube? Is it - Can it possibly be - the gut?

WAXY
No! It is the abdominal aorta! Don't you know any anatomy at all? Don't they teach you anything in medical school these days? (Stabs his scalpel through the air accusingly at GALAXY) What is the world coming to? How can you call yourself a man?


GALAXY
Well, you see, we are part of this new medical course…

WAXY
(Full of Azberjiani contempt) Ah yes, this new medical course. I have head about this. You spend two weeks roaming the countryside learning about volunteer car driving and appreciating community psych services. Bah! I defecate on your new medical course!

GALAXY
Can I join in? I really need to go to the bathroom.

GINGER
Doctor Wong! That is disgusting!

WAXY
Bah! Begone! I am done with the like of you! Stich up the patient with one handed Grasby ties of the European variation. It is very important. I don't want any knots! Do not let me find them messy in the morning, or I will make you retie them all again.

WAXY strides off the stage, flicking off his surgical cloves and tossing them at GALAXY. One of them hands on his head.

GALAXY
(Looking after WAXY, then turning to GINGER) What the fuck are Grasby ties?

Blackout