Doug Murphy ; Scrubs
((All of the Scrubs muns have approved, so I unleash Doug into the wild! Also, italicized words are his written responses :D))
Flashes of light didn't normally occur with people, did they? Well, sure, that had happened to Doug before, usually after he had his picture taken or something, when you... hee, when you got those purple dots behind your eyes that made you bump into things? And he'd always told his mom that they'd looked liked fluffy pom-poms, like the ones he put on those collages he made in second grade. Good times, second grade. But this wasn't those light flashes! This was... actually light flash! Like... lightning.
Oh, God, did he get struck by lightning? He really hoped he hadn't gotten struck by lightning. ...How lightning would have occurred in the middle of an elevator in the middle of Sacred Heart Hospital, the thought hadn't occurred to him, but he was pretty sure it could happen. Somehow. ...Man.
As it were, he was standing stock still in the middle of the sorting room, frozen in place and hugging a body bag to him for dear life (hah! Get it!? Pun!). His eyes were wide and completely overflowing with terror. ...No, almost literally. He was on the brink of tears.
When Doug finally did manage to break out of his temporary, rigor mortis-like stance, his eyes landed on a table. Of paper. "Okay, Doug," he mumbled to himself, hugging the body bag tighter to himself, like it was something that sucked out terror. Like a teddy bear. A big, dead, teddy bear. "You can do this," he continued his self-motivational speech in a stern voice under his breath, giving a decisive nod and dropping the bag unceremoniously onto the table beside the papers. To inspect, of course.
An application? Could this be a good thing? Maybe the flash had been a... a teleporter! And he was getting a new job opportunity! Only... Oh, no. They'd taught everyone how to write applications in school, back in seventh grade, but he'd never been very good at such. They made him nervous (but then again, what didn't?) and he always ended up totally failing at them. Dang it. He kept repeating, 'okay' to himself, grabbing at the... pen? Feather? How did you write with a feather? After a few testy scribbles, nothing was written on the page, and he was starting to panic. How could he write anything if he didn't have a pen!?
Wait! His fanny pack!
And everyone at work mocked him for wearing something so very 1987. Boy, would he show them.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Cheese? ...Cheese! Hey, he knew cheese! He thought there was going to be scary questions about... references, and past experience! Man! This was way better! Whew. Maybe this application thing wasn't going to be as bad as he initially thought...
I like mozzarella, he scrawled happily, in his neat, precise handwriting. It's yummy and it tastes good on homemade pizza!
And then paused, gnawing on the end of his pen for a moment before he drew a smiley face for good measure. Maybe if he was nice and friendly, whoever was going to read this thing later wouldn't treat him like... well, Doug.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Kill? ...Oh, God! He wasn't going to kill anyone! It had been bad enough at the hospital when he'd done it on accident. No, really, visions of ex-patients saying, 'You killed me!' in strange, wobbly, ghost-y voices haunted his dreams. Like, every night. But killing someone on purpose? No way. No sir.
I like Carrot Top! He's funny!
He chewed on his lip, analytically. He'd have to answer this, wouldn't he? If he didn't, they'd get mad at him. Er, these currently non-existent application people. And all his good work would go to waste, that one question he answered...! He'd answered that question pretty good! All right, all right.
...Barney. ...Dinosaurs are scary.
3. What time is it where you are?
It is OH GOD, MY WATCH DOESN'T WORK ANY MORE. I THINK I BROKE IT.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them?
After his lack of suaveness on the last question, and the fact that he had... just scrawled out his terror with panicked eyes without even realizing he was writing, he just moved onto the next question. Scribbling it out would make the paper ugly, and, well, maybe they wouldn't pay much attention to the Harry Potter-nesscapitals.
This question wasn't exactly all that much better, though. Murder? Sexual harassment? What kind of scary place was this? It already looked like a dungeon, and now he was answering an application that was talking about practically every sin under the sun...! All it had to do was mention alcohol and, well! All he wrote was, Sexual harassment isn't good either! and hesitated before he moved onto the next question. It was the same problem with the killing question. If he didn't answer, his application might not be accepted...!
LilyPotterIsKindOfPrettyIGuessIDon'tKnowTheEnd.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Gah! There it was! The drinking!
Uh, I probably shouldn't go to too many bars. People get set on fire I end up hitting them with I get really, really drunk.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Harry? George? Fred? Who were these people? Harry Houdini? George Harrison? Drop Dead Fred? Or maybe Harrison Ford, and Harry was a nickname? George Clooney? Freddie Prinze Jr.? Heh. Scooby Doo was a good movie.
Er.
My mom said that homosexuality is against the Lord. Or... Jesus. Or something. But, you know, she had a wine cooler while she said that and she gets kind of giggly when she has wine coolers. ...And I met this guy once and he said he was gay and he was pretty cool - he even gave me a cookie! And... Ian McKellen's gay! And he's Gandalf! So... they ARE good! Go you, Houdini! You get your 'Beatle' and your 'Queen'!
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
Oh, boy, you know, I'll help you with that. ...Me and Ted get asked to go through paperwork a lot. Because it's important...!
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
Useless? That wasn't the first time he'd heard that. Along with 'stupid', 'incompetent', 'skittish' and 'a nervous wreck', amongst other colorful descriptions. And some of them might have been true, yes, and he may or may not have messed up a few times through his residency at the hospital. ...All three years of it. But he wasn't useless! Especially with his job in Pathology, or working with the morgue! He was danged useful!
Uh. I did a lot of stuff in college, you know. And finished near the bottom of my classgraduated! ...I can tell you how people died. ...I'm a good coroner. I have some deaths named after me! That's kind of... cool!
There's other stuff. Give me a minute. I'll think of it.
*Written a few moments later.*
BIKES. I CAN BIKE. REAL WELL.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you.
A bribe? Oh, boy. He didn't have much in the way of a bribe. He glanced around, briefly, checking inside his fanny pack and counting out...
I have... five dollars and sixty-seven cents... and a rubber band, and my pager, a cherry-flavored lolli-
"Oh! I'm a really good cyclist!" he announced to nobody in particular, and when he noticed that nobody was, in fact, around, he scribbled the fact after the 'useless' question, tongue between his teeth.
-pop, and... a currently-occupied body bag.
There. That may work!
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Douglas Murphy.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Douglas Murphy
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. You know, that was just a rumor in high school, but Douglas Murphy.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ...Will it? ...Marmalade is scary. If it ruled the world, anyway, it would be. ...Douglas Murphy.
Flashes of light didn't normally occur with people, did they? Well, sure, that had happened to Doug before, usually after he had his picture taken or something, when you... hee, when you got those purple dots behind your eyes that made you bump into things? And he'd always told his mom that they'd looked liked fluffy pom-poms, like the ones he put on those collages he made in second grade. Good times, second grade. But this wasn't those light flashes! This was... actually light flash! Like... lightning.
Oh, God, did he get struck by lightning? He really hoped he hadn't gotten struck by lightning. ...How lightning would have occurred in the middle of an elevator in the middle of Sacred Heart Hospital, the thought hadn't occurred to him, but he was pretty sure it could happen. Somehow. ...Man.
As it were, he was standing stock still in the middle of the sorting room, frozen in place and hugging a body bag to him for dear life (hah! Get it!? Pun!). His eyes were wide and completely overflowing with terror. ...No, almost literally. He was on the brink of tears.
When Doug finally did manage to break out of his temporary, rigor mortis-like stance, his eyes landed on a table. Of paper. "Okay, Doug," he mumbled to himself, hugging the body bag tighter to himself, like it was something that sucked out terror. Like a teddy bear. A big, dead, teddy bear. "You can do this," he continued his self-motivational speech in a stern voice under his breath, giving a decisive nod and dropping the bag unceremoniously onto the table beside the papers. To inspect, of course.
An application? Could this be a good thing? Maybe the flash had been a... a teleporter! And he was getting a new job opportunity! Only... Oh, no. They'd taught everyone how to write applications in school, back in seventh grade, but he'd never been very good at such. They made him nervous (but then again, what didn't?) and he always ended up totally failing at them. Dang it. He kept repeating, 'okay' to himself, grabbing at the... pen? Feather? How did you write with a feather? After a few testy scribbles, nothing was written on the page, and he was starting to panic. How could he write anything if he didn't have a pen!?
Wait! His fanny pack!
And everyone at work mocked him for wearing something so very 1987. Boy, would he show them.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Cheese? ...Cheese! Hey, he knew cheese! He thought there was going to be scary questions about... references, and past experience! Man! This was way better! Whew. Maybe this application thing wasn't going to be as bad as he initially thought...
I like mozzarella, he scrawled happily, in his neat, precise handwriting. It's yummy and it tastes good on homemade pizza!
And then paused, gnawing on the end of his pen for a moment before he drew a smiley face for good measure. Maybe if he was nice and friendly, whoever was going to read this thing later wouldn't treat him like... well, Doug.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Kill? ...Oh, God! He wasn't going to kill anyone! It had been bad enough at the hospital when he'd done it on accident. No, really, visions of ex-patients saying, 'You killed me!' in strange, wobbly, ghost-y voices haunted his dreams. Like, every night. But killing someone on purpose? No way. No sir.
I like Carrot Top! He's funny!
He chewed on his lip, analytically. He'd have to answer this, wouldn't he? If he didn't, they'd get mad at him. Er, these currently non-existent application people. And all his good work would go to waste, that one question he answered...! He'd answered that question pretty good! All right, all right.
...Barney. ...Dinosaurs are scary.
3. What time is it where you are?
It is OH GOD, MY WATCH DOESN'T WORK ANY MORE. I THINK I BROKE IT.
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them?
After his lack of suaveness on the last question, and the fact that he had... just scrawled out his terror with panicked eyes without even realizing he was writing, he just moved onto the next question. Scribbling it out would make the paper ugly, and, well, maybe they wouldn't pay much attention to the Harry Potter-nesscapitals.
This question wasn't exactly all that much better, though. Murder? Sexual harassment? What kind of scary place was this? It already looked like a dungeon, and now he was answering an application that was talking about practically every sin under the sun...! All it had to do was mention alcohol and, well! All he wrote was, Sexual harassment isn't good either! and hesitated before he moved onto the next question. It was the same problem with the killing question. If he didn't answer, his application might not be accepted...!
LilyPotterIsKindOfPrettyIGuessIDon'tKnowTheEnd.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Gah! There it was! The drinking!
Uh, I probably shouldn't go to too many bars. People get set on fire I end up hitting them with I get really, really drunk.
B. Gryffindor - Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Harry? George? Fred? Who were these people? Harry Houdini? George Harrison? Drop Dead Fred? Or maybe Harrison Ford, and Harry was a nickname? George Clooney? Freddie Prinze Jr.? Heh. Scooby Doo was a good movie.
Er.
My mom said that homosexuality is against the Lord. Or... Jesus. Or something. But, you know, she had a wine cooler while she said that and she gets kind of giggly when she has wine coolers. ...And I met this guy once and he said he was gay and he was pretty cool - he even gave me a cookie! And... Ian McKellen's gay! And he's Gandalf! So... they ARE good! Go you, Houdini! You get your 'Beatle' and your 'Queen'!
C. Ravenclaw - You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
Oh, boy, you know, I'll help you with that. ...Me and Ted get asked to go through paperwork a lot. Because it's important...!
D. Hufflepuff - Prove you are not useless.
Useless? That wasn't the first time he'd heard that. Along with 'stupid', 'incompetent', 'skittish' and 'a nervous wreck', amongst other colorful descriptions. And some of them might have been true, yes, and he may or may not have messed up a few times through his residency at the hospital. ...All three years of it. But he wasn't useless! Especially with his job in Pathology, or working with the morgue! He was danged useful!
Uh. I did a lot of stuff in college, you know. And finished near the bottom of my classgraduated! ...I can tell you how people died. ...I'm a good coroner. I have some deaths named after me! That's kind of... cool!
There's other stuff. Give me a minute. I'll think of it.
*Written a few moments later.*
BIKES. I CAN BIKE. REAL WELL.
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you.
A bribe? Oh, boy. He didn't have much in the way of a bribe. He glanced around, briefly, checking inside his fanny pack and counting out...
I have... five dollars and sixty-seven cents... and a rubber band, and my pager, a cherry-flavored lolli-
"Oh! I'm a really good cyclist!" he announced to nobody in particular, and when he noticed that nobody was, in fact, around, he scribbled the fact after the 'useless' question, tongue between his teeth.
-pop, and... a currently-occupied body bag.
There. That may work!
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Douglas Murphy.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Douglas Murphy
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. You know, that was just a rumor in high school, but Douglas Murphy.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ...Will it? ...Marmalade is scary. If it ruled the world, anyway, it would be. ...Douglas Murphy.