Tallulah Falls, 2/?
anonymous
October 20 2010, 02:31:48 UTC
“Hi. I’m Dr. McCoy.” Leonard sticks his hand out and gets a wet-noodle handshake, along with a jolt of blue eyes. Kirk’s face is vaguely familiar--Leonard associates it with the sides of bus shelters--but it’s blanched, at least around the eyes, where it’s not covered with bronze-tinted makeup. Still, Leonard can see how it all makes sense: the regular features, the dark lashes, the long, slim body that would probably be perfect with the canonical ten pounds added by the camera.
“Hi,” Kirk rasps, letting his head drop again.
“All right, let’s take a look at that head.” Kirk points to a place a few inches behind his hairline and Leonard begins probing with his fingers. Kirk’s dirty blond hair is stiff and sticky with some kind of styling goo, but Leonard finds the egg-sized lump easily enough.
“Is it right there?” He presses gently.
“Ow!”
“Apart from the headache and the nausea, how do you feel? Dizziness, fatigue, vomiting?”
“I feel kinda shaky, and I have the urge to kill my director.” Kirk stretches his jaw until it pops, and Leonard begins mandibular palpitation.
“What did he do, make you stop a runaway train with your teeth?” Leonard finds nothing clinically significant in his jaw or neck other than perfect bone structure.
“He let a big pile of crates fall on me, for comic effect. He thought the shot would look better with real crates.” Kirk probes at the tender spot like it’s bringing the memory back. “He nearly shit himself when that one knocked me out.”
“You were unconscious? Okay, I’m going to examine the rest of your face and neck, so hold tight.” Leonard palpates his facial, jaw and neck bones, noting nothing clinically significant, just perfect bone structure.
The pen light gives him a good look at the probably very bankable blue eyes, which respond just fine and don’t look overly dilated. He pulls out the opthalmoscope.
“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Leonard also notices dark circles under his eyes.
“It helps with the--show up on camera--shit, that’s bright. Besides, I can totally see your nose hairs right now.”
Leonard helps him to his feet for the Romberg test; he sways a little but Leonard chalks that up to the fact that he seems tired as hell.
“Well,” Leonard says, steadying Kirk so he can sit back down, “you’ve got a simple concussion, but I’m going to order a CT scan because it will make my boss happy, and probably also that little guy in the baseball cap who’s making a fuss in the waiting room.” Leonard glances through the little window in the door at the commotion in the hallway and wonders how long he can draw out the exam.
“Is that Tony?” Kirk ducks his head to peer out the window. “Oh, shit. It looks like he’s being an ass.”
“Good, then I won’t feel bad about our inflated bill.” Kirk smiles through a wince and lets Leonard help him with his jacket, which is an old-fashioned baseball-type number. “What’s this movie about, anyway?”
Kirk gives him a look like he just said something witty. “It’s a romantic comedy/heist movie set in a minor league baseball town in the 1920s. Tony calls it ‘O Brother Where Art Thou meets Ocean’s Eleven with a Bull Durham chaser.’”
“Hi,” Kirk rasps, letting his head drop again.
“All right, let’s take a look at that head.” Kirk points to a place a few inches behind his hairline and Leonard begins probing with his fingers. Kirk’s dirty blond hair is stiff and sticky with some kind of styling goo, but Leonard finds the egg-sized lump easily enough.
“Is it right there?” He presses gently.
“Ow!”
“Apart from the headache and the nausea, how do you feel? Dizziness, fatigue, vomiting?”
“I feel kinda shaky, and I have the urge to kill my director.” Kirk stretches his jaw until it pops, and Leonard begins mandibular palpitation.
“What did he do, make you stop a runaway train with your teeth?” Leonard finds nothing clinically significant in his jaw or neck other than perfect bone structure.
“He let a big pile of crates fall on me, for comic effect. He thought the shot would look better with real crates.” Kirk probes at the tender spot like it’s bringing the memory back. “He nearly shit himself when that one knocked me out.”
“You were unconscious? Okay, I’m going to examine the rest of your face and neck, so hold tight.” Leonard palpates his facial, jaw and neck bones, noting nothing clinically significant, just perfect bone structure.
The pen light gives him a good look at the probably very bankable blue eyes, which respond just fine and don’t look overly dilated. He pulls out the opthalmoscope.
“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Leonard also notices dark circles under his eyes.
“It helps with the--show up on camera--shit, that’s bright. Besides, I can totally see your nose hairs right now.”
Leonard helps him to his feet for the Romberg test; he sways a little but Leonard chalks that up to the fact that he seems tired as hell.
“Well,” Leonard says, steadying Kirk so he can sit back down, “you’ve got a simple concussion, but I’m going to order a CT scan because it will make my boss happy, and probably also that little guy in the baseball cap who’s making a fuss in the waiting room.” Leonard glances through the little window in the door at the commotion in the hallway and wonders how long he can draw out the exam.
“Is that Tony?” Kirk ducks his head to peer out the window. “Oh, shit. It looks like he’s being an ass.”
“Good, then I won’t feel bad about our inflated bill.” Kirk smiles through a wince and lets Leonard help him with his jacket, which is an old-fashioned baseball-type number. “What’s this movie about, anyway?”
Kirk gives him a look like he just said something witty. “It’s a romantic comedy/heist movie set in a minor league baseball town in the 1920s. Tony calls it ‘O Brother Where Art Thou meets Ocean’s Eleven with a Bull Durham chaser.’”
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