Post by Stephen Callaway on Jan 29, 2011 17:58:02 GMT -5
Stephen Callaway sits in a brightly lit waiting room. He looks around him. The darkened sky outside, the marble flooring, the spot on his hand that grows darker hairs than the rest of the hand. He pulls out his Ipod and rolls through the ‘Cover Art’ looking at tiny pictures of the latest music he’s added to it. A cat meow comes from a room on the other side of the waiting room and Stephen looks up, staring at the door hoping to be able to see through the wall.
Nothing.
Pictures of cats, dogs and one single picture of a Guinea Pig adorn the still unseethroughable walls. He goes back to his Ipod and only looks up when a muddy pair of once white sneakers and a pair of flat pumps appear at the top of the Ipod pointing his way.
A woman, mid thirties, proper, maybe an accountant (or something like that) and a child with mud on his face that, mixed with the clear liquid dribbling from his nose, screams to Stephen ‘DISEASE!!!! AVIOD LIKE PLAGUE!!!!!!!.
Woman smiles at Stephen and gently pushes the child in a way that says ‘Let Mommy have a second to talk to the man’ Stephen raises an eyebrow.
Woman
“I’m sorry to bother you, but, are you Stephen Callaway?”
Inwardly, Stephen debates his answer.
Woman
“It’s my dog, Jasper, he’s been taken in and it would calm Timmy (she indicates the child as he drives a toy car over the outline of the Guinea Pig) if he had some…. Distraction.”
Stephen smiles. Before he can open his mouth to give response, Timmy is laced in the seat next to him. With a woosh of automatic door, mother is outside with a lit cigarette.
Timmy’s feet swing in the gap from foot to floor. Stephen’s Red Converse sit flat on the marble.
Stephen
“So…. Jasper. What’s wrong with him?”
Timmy
“He swallowed a toy bone. Dad said he’s fine but Mom brought him here. You?”
Stephen
“Rollo. He’s finding it difficult to pis…. Er, go to the toilet.”
Timmy
“What about Adam Abel?”
Stephen
“I don’t know but I don’t think he’s got any problems going to the loo.”
Timmy laughs. Typical child’s laugh.
Stephen
“Rollo comes first. I can beat up Adam Unabel on Sunday. Fact but I can do it. I could beat him up and send him to hospital, but he becomes a problem of the Abel family and they need to treat him until he’s ‘better’. Rollo’s my concern and I’ll treat him until he’s better.”
Timmy
“Are you not worried he’s gonna beat you up?”
Stephen
“I used to be. Because he’s won world championships everywhere, he used to be a problem.”
Timmy
“And now?”
Stephen
“Now? Now, I’ve beaten him so many times it’s not even funny. Take my advice: when you’re older and doing nasty, hard tests at school you should always plan in advance. At school they call it studying. It means looking over what you’ve done before and going over it until you can remember it?”
Timmy
“You mean like Super Mario?”
Stephen
“What? Super Mario?
Timmy
“When I first played it, I kept getting killed by the mushroom thingies. But now, I know they’re there so I just jump on them.”
Stephen
“Fair enough, like Super Mario. What I do is I watch all the matches I’ve had with Adam Unable, even some he’s had with other wrestlers. That way I know how he wrestles, how I did against him and where I should change things and what flaws and weaknesses he has so I can take advantage of them and win.”
A black Labrador comes bounding out of Room 2 and runs straight at Timmy. Stephen is up, on his feet, and at least six feet away from Timmy by the time the dog’s feet touched the waiting room floor.
A familiar laugh from reception made him turn. Valerie was standing there handing over a credit card as Stephen approached.
Valerie
“They’re gonna keep him in overnight, do some tests maybe catheter him overnight to drain his bladder and he should be fine.”
Stephen
“Good to see he’s fine.”
Valerie
“So what’s this with you, a snotty child and a blundering dog?”
Stephen
“I was just sit…”
Valerie
“Save it. I seen it come running. Worth it to see you leap of that seat like a Rey Mysterio entrance. The dog’s fine though. Puked the toy back up as it entered the treatment room. Vet’ll probably charge $200 to clean up dog sick of the buffed floor.”
A nurse smiles and hands Valerie her card and the Callaways walk out of the vets. Stephen waves a ‘see you later’ at the closed door of Room 5 as he goes.
END PROMO
Nothing.
Pictures of cats, dogs and one single picture of a Guinea Pig adorn the still unseethroughable walls. He goes back to his Ipod and only looks up when a muddy pair of once white sneakers and a pair of flat pumps appear at the top of the Ipod pointing his way.
A woman, mid thirties, proper, maybe an accountant (or something like that) and a child with mud on his face that, mixed with the clear liquid dribbling from his nose, screams to Stephen ‘DISEASE!!!! AVIOD LIKE PLAGUE!!!!!!!.
Woman smiles at Stephen and gently pushes the child in a way that says ‘Let Mommy have a second to talk to the man’ Stephen raises an eyebrow.
Woman
“I’m sorry to bother you, but, are you Stephen Callaway?”
Inwardly, Stephen debates his answer.
Woman
“It’s my dog, Jasper, he’s been taken in and it would calm Timmy (she indicates the child as he drives a toy car over the outline of the Guinea Pig) if he had some…. Distraction.”
Stephen smiles. Before he can open his mouth to give response, Timmy is laced in the seat next to him. With a woosh of automatic door, mother is outside with a lit cigarette.
Timmy’s feet swing in the gap from foot to floor. Stephen’s Red Converse sit flat on the marble.
Stephen
“So…. Jasper. What’s wrong with him?”
Timmy
“He swallowed a toy bone. Dad said he’s fine but Mom brought him here. You?”
Stephen
“Rollo. He’s finding it difficult to pis…. Er, go to the toilet.”
Timmy
“What about Adam Abel?”
Stephen
“I don’t know but I don’t think he’s got any problems going to the loo.”
Timmy laughs. Typical child’s laugh.
Stephen
“Rollo comes first. I can beat up Adam Unabel on Sunday. Fact but I can do it. I could beat him up and send him to hospital, but he becomes a problem of the Abel family and they need to treat him until he’s ‘better’. Rollo’s my concern and I’ll treat him until he’s better.”
Timmy
“Are you not worried he’s gonna beat you up?”
Stephen
“I used to be. Because he’s won world championships everywhere, he used to be a problem.”
Timmy
“And now?”
Stephen
“Now? Now, I’ve beaten him so many times it’s not even funny. Take my advice: when you’re older and doing nasty, hard tests at school you should always plan in advance. At school they call it studying. It means looking over what you’ve done before and going over it until you can remember it?”
Timmy
“You mean like Super Mario?”
Stephen
“What? Super Mario?
Timmy
“When I first played it, I kept getting killed by the mushroom thingies. But now, I know they’re there so I just jump on them.”
Stephen
“Fair enough, like Super Mario. What I do is I watch all the matches I’ve had with Adam Unable, even some he’s had with other wrestlers. That way I know how he wrestles, how I did against him and where I should change things and what flaws and weaknesses he has so I can take advantage of them and win.”
A black Labrador comes bounding out of Room 2 and runs straight at Timmy. Stephen is up, on his feet, and at least six feet away from Timmy by the time the dog’s feet touched the waiting room floor.
A familiar laugh from reception made him turn. Valerie was standing there handing over a credit card as Stephen approached.
Valerie
“They’re gonna keep him in overnight, do some tests maybe catheter him overnight to drain his bladder and he should be fine.”
Stephen
“Good to see he’s fine.”
Valerie
“So what’s this with you, a snotty child and a blundering dog?”
Stephen
“I was just sit…”
Valerie
“Save it. I seen it come running. Worth it to see you leap of that seat like a Rey Mysterio entrance. The dog’s fine though. Puked the toy back up as it entered the treatment room. Vet’ll probably charge $200 to clean up dog sick of the buffed floor.”
A nurse smiles and hands Valerie her card and the Callaways walk out of the vets. Stephen waves a ‘see you later’ at the closed door of Room 5 as he goes.
END PROMO
