"This weird chick Pickles slept with once shot herself. There was like, brains all over the windshield. She wrote these letters to him also, signed like they were married or something. It was just... really fucking weird."
"He disowned me just before he died. I found out he was running a huge drugs scam with a pharmaceutical company that put people's lives at risk. I betrayed him to the authorities and had he survived he would have been struck off..."
He voice trails off as he suddenly thinks of something.
He's still in scrubs, eating a pasty, and grabbing a handful of snacks. This constitutes his dinner.
He then stops and coughs... it's possible he grabbed a crayon.
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Imediate question. If the answer is no, Guppy is getting tied up.
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"Eight hours last night, two at half four this afternoon."
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He's still looking a bit tired and run down, but not exhausted.
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"I'm so sorry, that must be hard for you both, never mind her family."
Hesitation. "You're sure that they weren't married, right?"
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"Why'd you become a doctor? People oughta keep their insides inside. It's gross."
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"I... I wanted my father to love me." he says simply. "I only begun to love the job when his opinion no longer mattered."
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Not much to say to that. He gets it though.
"Did it work?"
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He voice trails off as he suddenly thinks of something.
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