Friday, 2 January 2009

Another overdue lump of this overly long shit

Hello you two, I've just logged onto the blog due to boredom and found that two people - yes two whole people, or potentially one person voting twice, hmm - had voted on the vote-o-meter thing on the blog. I was amused. That's one more people than I knew had read this stuff. I've recently decided to attempt a children's book with a mate who draws things quite well. I doubt it will ever materialise but if it does and I make a shedload of money like that awful Rowling woman then rest assured you will see none of it. I'll spend it on a giant bronze podium for the garden so I can stand on it twice a day and read James Ellroy to the peasants. Anyway, I wrote another bit of this thing because it is beginning to gather a little momentum in my head. It is going somewhere, trust me, I've visited a doctor. Remember the rules here, this is unedited, stream of consciousness writing. There will be errors and clumsy stuff. Deal with it.

Gray was uneasy about the last words to leave Vadas thin lips and the doctors's vaguness was doing nothing to improve his mood.
"He shows absolutey no signs of being in a physical struggle," said Dr Hammond, sure of that at least.
"There isn't a mark on him. No defence wounds on his hands, wrists or arms, or even legs and feet, to indicate he fended off an attacker, suggesting he was more likely the attacker rather that the attacked. But by the same token, he show no signs of the bruising that would develop after an attack of the ferocity you describe. He would be certain to have sustained at least some kind of damage from resistance by a large group. It's like he wasn't even there. If you hadn't told me where you found him I wouldn't have even have considered it a possibility."
Gray rolled the words around in his mouth. They didn't fit.
"Dr, it sounds to me like you are saying that he wasn't even present during the attack. Are you suggesting that he wasn't, that someone could have put him in the hold after those people died.?"
"Given the physical signs then that's entirely possible," began the doctor, but Gray sensed there was something further."Spit it out Doctor," ventured Gray.
"Well," edged the physician, "there's something strange about him. Nothing I can really put my finger on but, he just..."
"I don't have all day Dr," said Gray, his patence thinning.
"He's too well. In too good a condition. He should have wounds, he should be suffering from exposure, dehydration, starvation. He should be weak. If I had to guess I would say he is some kind of profesional athlete, perhaps a soldier, but even by those standards he is unusually strong. His muscle development is truly impressive. And his recovery rate since he arrived here has been nothing short of incredulous. He is showing some unusual discrepancies in his blood and we are continuing tests on that, but it isn't a virus or disease we recognise. With your permission I'd like to keep him here for a week to ...
"That won't be possible," said Gray, cutting the Doctor dead politely.
"Then just a few days. We need to find out what this is and I'd need help from..."
"Not a chance in hell," snapped Gray, his impatience fracturing at his repetition. "This man is potentially a very violent killer responsible for the murder of 80 people and I will not allow him to stay in a public facility any longer than is absolutey neccesary. I wan't this man in a cell as soon as is possible."
Dr Hammond looked at his shoes and bit down on his tongue.
"Mr Gray. Imagine the possibilities of a virus that made people stronger, aided recovery, imagine how many patients this could help to treat. How many diseases. I mean, in cancer treatment alone this could revolutionise ..."
Gray stepped forward and raised his open palm to the Dr's face. The time for professional courtesy was over.
"Doctor, this morning you told me this patient was ready to be discharged to our care and that is exactly what will happen tomorrow. I have a space in cell waiting for him and if you coninue to obstruct me you might just find yourself next to him. I will return tomorrow at 9am and I expect him to be ready. Goodbye."
Gray left the office door swinging as he left the doctors office. Walking past the room holding Vadas, Gray noticed the stranger hadn't changed his position, lying on his side facing the window, but is eyes were wide open. Vadas was starring though him, not at him. Gray's eyes locked into the patient's. Vadas, unmoved by the eye contact, remained impassive for a moment before snapping to a blink. Then he caught Gray's stare. Vadas rolled over in his bed, turning his muscled back on the policeman, and Gray decided at that moment to bring three officers to remove him the next morning.

Random thought at 1.59am on January 4, 2009. I'm watching Live At the Apollo and Russell Howard is doing material I have seen and heard lots of time before. A commedian once told me that after shows half his fans ask him why he did old material, and half ask him why he didn't tell their favourite old joke. Why would someone want to hear a joke twice? Surely a new laugh is better than an old one?