Post by dylanblack on Aug 8, 2023 23:11:40 GMT -6
In what appears to be a rundown medical center, “Hammerhand” Blake Luthor sits in a seat in a waiting room. There is no one else in the room so it’s unknown what Blake is actually waiting for.
Blake grimaces as he tries to flex the fingers of his right hand. They cooperate, but barely and with more pain than Blake can easily stomach. He’s been xrayed so that they know what is actually wrong with his hand after it was stomped in the ring by James Raymond and he continued the match to fight with the hand. He won the match, but at what price?
A nurse walks out from the back with a smile. She looks more like a nurse from a porn film than she does a nurse from an actual hospital. Her skirt is definitely of the mini variety and her top is unbuttoned nearly halfway to allow for a lot of cleavage to spill out. She looks at her clipboard, her plump red lips forming the words that Blake has been waiting to hear.
NURSE: Blake? Blake Luthor? Come right this way.
Blake gets to his feet, hissing as he moves his hand and the pain from his hand lances up through his arm to his shoulder. The nurse looks at him with some concern.
NURSE: I think we’re going to numb that hand before we fix it right up. Dr. Twist is an excellent Doctor.
Blake sneers, but keeps the reaction to himself. Dr. Octavius Lockridge, or Dr. Twist as he is known, has been Blake’s Doctor for years and is the reason that much of Blake’s bones in his hands have been replaced with metal. All to speed his recovery along somehow. Not that Dr. Twist is a real doctor. He’s specialized as a shrink that practices in all types of medicine.
The nurse leads Blake into a small exam room that has a table with a vise in it. The nurse gets Blake’s vitals like his weight, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. She then sits across from Blake, crossing and uncrossing her legs for a moment so that Blake caught sight of unpantied mound. The nurse gives a mischievous smile before looking down to her clipboard.
NURSE: So you are here because you think that your hand may have been broken during the course of a wrestling match. What makes you think that? What happened?
Blake eyes his right hand as if maybe it was going to speak or as if mentally telling it to be still. He looks back to the nurse.
BLAKE LUTHOR: James Raymond put my hand on the mat and stomped on it. I think the injury might have happened then, but it wasn’t as if I could just stop using my right hand during the match to baby it along. I’m a brawler. It’s what I do. So once the damage had been done, I kept inflicting more harm to the hand during the course of the match.
The nurse nods, making notes on the clipboard. She stands up with a smile.
NURSE: Dr. Twist will be right with you to let you know what he thinks that the plan of care should be. Then I will be in to numb your hand right up so you don’t feel anything while it’s being fixed.
Blake sighs as the nurse walks out of the room, knowing that it might be some time before the Doctor even decided to come into the room. So, he is pleasantly surprised when he hears heavy footsteps and the Doctor walks into the room.
Dr. Twist is the name given to this mechanical man. He lives, but the life he lives isn’t much more than a facade of an actual life. A large steam driven machine exists on his back with framework attached to his legs so that he can support the monstrous machine. It operates as his lungs, heart, kidneys, and who knows what other organs it has taken over the functions of. It also has a number of mechanical arms that come from it that Dr. Twist controls with his brain as the machine is hooked to it as well. He is like a nightmare come to life in looking at his dull seemingly dead skin.
DR. TWIST: So...pffft...you have a couple of metallic...pffft...bones out of place. Pffft. I can...pffft...put them back...pffft...into place.
Dr. Twist nods stiffly to the vise on the table. It’s set up to where Blake could put his arm into the device to have his hand accessible from the table.
DR. TWIST: Pffft. Place your arm...pffft...into the vise please. Pffft. I would hate...pffft...for you to jerk your hand...pffft...away before I am done.
Blake narrows his eyes, but places his arm inside the vise where Dr. Twist secures his arm into place.
BLAKE LUTHOR: The nurse mentioned that she was going to numb my hand…
DR. TWIST: She told...pffft...you that? I warned her...pffft...about giving out false...pffft...promises. This is why...pffft...we have the vise.
Dr. Twist pulls out a hammer and a chisel from pockets in his jacket with a smile.
DR TWIST: It will probably help...pffft...to scream.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Wait-
Dr. Twist places the chisel against a joint in Blake’s right hand and smacks the end of it with the hammer. Blake can feel the pin moving in his hand as the skin breaks from the sharp end of the chisel. He lets out a scream of pain as predicted.
Dr. Twist places the chisel against the side of the metallic bone replacement and taps it again, bringing out a fresh scream and more blood as the “bone” shifts back into its proper place.
BLAKE LUTHOR: What the fuck?!
DR TWIST: One...pffft...more.
Though he says one more bone, there’s nearly half a dozen taps to the back of his hand to ease a lump of shifted bones back into place. Blood rains from Blake’s hand to drip from the table, oozing down the side to puddle onto the floor. Dr. Twist puts his blood instruments away with a uncaring smile.
DR TWIST: The nurse will be back...pffft...in to clean that up...pffft...and stitch it up. You did well...pffft…,Blake.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Fuck you.
Dr Twist calmly looks at Blake with disdain for a moment before answering.
DR TWIST: I suppose...pffft...I should expect...pffft...this sort of thing...pffft...from you. Have a...pffft...good day.
Dr. Twist exits the room, his heavy footsteps smashing against the floor as it struggles against the weight of Twist’s life support system.
It isn’t long before the nurse walks back into the room. She looks at Blake’s hand with some dismay before grabbing a bunch of gauze and a bowl of warm water.
NURSE: Let’s just get you cleaned up a bit so we can close those wounds.
The nurse cleans the wounds, placing a topical anesthetic on it to ease the pain in his hand before she starts sewing each wound closed. She finishes by wrapping the hand in gauze and releasing Blake’s arm from the vise.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Thank you.
NURSE: For what?
BLAKE LUTHOR: You put medicine on my hand to numb it before sewing the wounds that Dr. Twist inflicted without medicine or even a sorry. Thank you.
NURSE: He didn’t use medicine to numb your hand before he struck it? Oh my. How can I make it better?
BLAKE LUTHOR: I can think of a way…
The nurse smiles as she lifts up her skirt to reveal once again the fact that she has no panties on. Blake grins, allowing her to undo his pants as the scene fades to black.
Blake grimaces as he tries to flex the fingers of his right hand. They cooperate, but barely and with more pain than Blake can easily stomach. He’s been xrayed so that they know what is actually wrong with his hand after it was stomped in the ring by James Raymond and he continued the match to fight with the hand. He won the match, but at what price?
A nurse walks out from the back with a smile. She looks more like a nurse from a porn film than she does a nurse from an actual hospital. Her skirt is definitely of the mini variety and her top is unbuttoned nearly halfway to allow for a lot of cleavage to spill out. She looks at her clipboard, her plump red lips forming the words that Blake has been waiting to hear.
NURSE: Blake? Blake Luthor? Come right this way.
Blake gets to his feet, hissing as he moves his hand and the pain from his hand lances up through his arm to his shoulder. The nurse looks at him with some concern.
NURSE: I think we’re going to numb that hand before we fix it right up. Dr. Twist is an excellent Doctor.
Blake sneers, but keeps the reaction to himself. Dr. Octavius Lockridge, or Dr. Twist as he is known, has been Blake’s Doctor for years and is the reason that much of Blake’s bones in his hands have been replaced with metal. All to speed his recovery along somehow. Not that Dr. Twist is a real doctor. He’s specialized as a shrink that practices in all types of medicine.
The nurse leads Blake into a small exam room that has a table with a vise in it. The nurse gets Blake’s vitals like his weight, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. She then sits across from Blake, crossing and uncrossing her legs for a moment so that Blake caught sight of unpantied mound. The nurse gives a mischievous smile before looking down to her clipboard.
NURSE: So you are here because you think that your hand may have been broken during the course of a wrestling match. What makes you think that? What happened?
Blake eyes his right hand as if maybe it was going to speak or as if mentally telling it to be still. He looks back to the nurse.
BLAKE LUTHOR: James Raymond put my hand on the mat and stomped on it. I think the injury might have happened then, but it wasn’t as if I could just stop using my right hand during the match to baby it along. I’m a brawler. It’s what I do. So once the damage had been done, I kept inflicting more harm to the hand during the course of the match.
The nurse nods, making notes on the clipboard. She stands up with a smile.
NURSE: Dr. Twist will be right with you to let you know what he thinks that the plan of care should be. Then I will be in to numb your hand right up so you don’t feel anything while it’s being fixed.
Blake sighs as the nurse walks out of the room, knowing that it might be some time before the Doctor even decided to come into the room. So, he is pleasantly surprised when he hears heavy footsteps and the Doctor walks into the room.
Dr. Twist is the name given to this mechanical man. He lives, but the life he lives isn’t much more than a facade of an actual life. A large steam driven machine exists on his back with framework attached to his legs so that he can support the monstrous machine. It operates as his lungs, heart, kidneys, and who knows what other organs it has taken over the functions of. It also has a number of mechanical arms that come from it that Dr. Twist controls with his brain as the machine is hooked to it as well. He is like a nightmare come to life in looking at his dull seemingly dead skin.
DR. TWIST: So...pffft...you have a couple of metallic...pffft...bones out of place. Pffft. I can...pffft...put them back...pffft...into place.
Dr. Twist nods stiffly to the vise on the table. It’s set up to where Blake could put his arm into the device to have his hand accessible from the table.
DR. TWIST: Pffft. Place your arm...pffft...into the vise please. Pffft. I would hate...pffft...for you to jerk your hand...pffft...away before I am done.
Blake narrows his eyes, but places his arm inside the vise where Dr. Twist secures his arm into place.
BLAKE LUTHOR: The nurse mentioned that she was going to numb my hand…
DR. TWIST: She told...pffft...you that? I warned her...pffft...about giving out false...pffft...promises. This is why...pffft...we have the vise.
Dr. Twist pulls out a hammer and a chisel from pockets in his jacket with a smile.
DR TWIST: It will probably help...pffft...to scream.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Wait-
Dr. Twist places the chisel against a joint in Blake’s right hand and smacks the end of it with the hammer. Blake can feel the pin moving in his hand as the skin breaks from the sharp end of the chisel. He lets out a scream of pain as predicted.
Dr. Twist places the chisel against the side of the metallic bone replacement and taps it again, bringing out a fresh scream and more blood as the “bone” shifts back into its proper place.
BLAKE LUTHOR: What the fuck?!
DR TWIST: One...pffft...more.
Though he says one more bone, there’s nearly half a dozen taps to the back of his hand to ease a lump of shifted bones back into place. Blood rains from Blake’s hand to drip from the table, oozing down the side to puddle onto the floor. Dr. Twist puts his blood instruments away with a uncaring smile.
DR TWIST: The nurse will be back...pffft...in to clean that up...pffft...and stitch it up. You did well...pffft…,Blake.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Fuck you.
Dr Twist calmly looks at Blake with disdain for a moment before answering.
DR TWIST: I suppose...pffft...I should expect...pffft...this sort of thing...pffft...from you. Have a...pffft...good day.
Dr. Twist exits the room, his heavy footsteps smashing against the floor as it struggles against the weight of Twist’s life support system.
It isn’t long before the nurse walks back into the room. She looks at Blake’s hand with some dismay before grabbing a bunch of gauze and a bowl of warm water.
NURSE: Let’s just get you cleaned up a bit so we can close those wounds.
The nurse cleans the wounds, placing a topical anesthetic on it to ease the pain in his hand before she starts sewing each wound closed. She finishes by wrapping the hand in gauze and releasing Blake’s arm from the vise.
BLAKE LUTHOR: Thank you.
NURSE: For what?
BLAKE LUTHOR: You put medicine on my hand to numb it before sewing the wounds that Dr. Twist inflicted without medicine or even a sorry. Thank you.
NURSE: He didn’t use medicine to numb your hand before he struck it? Oh my. How can I make it better?
BLAKE LUTHOR: I can think of a way…
The nurse smiles as she lifts up her skirt to reveal once again the fact that she has no panties on. Blake grins, allowing her to undo his pants as the scene fades to black.