(no subject)

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Fuck!

[The sound of whimpering, he's not crying, or screaming, damn it, he's just fallen in the middle of the street. All he wanted was a coffee.]

I'm dying.

I'm fucking dying.

[And still trying to crawl to the hospital.]


[ooc: victim of a certain rat's gutshot. Thanks Freddy.]

Comments

Action

[trenchknives]

[He's finally decided to make his way to the hospital. The wounds he's received are bad, and starting to concern him. And then he sees Mr. Pink.]

What the fuck happened to you?

Action

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Seriously. Seriously, Jimmy?]

I'm fucking dying - a little help, here!

Re: Action

[trenchknives]

I don't think you're actually dyin'.

[A pause and a sigh as he considers his own wounds, including some nasty ones on his neck.]

Ya want help gettin' to the hospital?

Action

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Oh my god are you an idiot, is what Pink is thinking]

Fuck - yes!

Re: Action

[trenchknives]

Okay, c'mon.

[He winces as he reaches out a hand to help the other man up.]

Try not to bleed on me too much.

Re: Action

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Okay he grips his stomach and tries to haul himself up. Ow ow ow.]

Re: Action

[trenchknives]

Okay, um, I'm gonna try to...

[He puts an arm around his shoulder, wincing again at how much his own wounds are hurting.]

Can y'just put some weight on me, maybe...

[orangetoughguy]

[Oh shit.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Fuck you. This is all your fault.]

[orangetoughguy]

[HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SHOT IN THE GUT BEFORE IT CAN'T BE JUST FREDDY.]

You got help?

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Someone got me to a hospital before I fucking bled out on the street.

[orangetoughguy]

Cool I guess you're gonna be okay.

[So he's off the hook and stuff!!]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

I'm on enough morphine to knock out a fucking elephant.

Hey.

Hey.

Are you going to visit?

[whitetwoguns]

[Holy fucking shit.]

You'll pull through, buddy boy.

[Someone tell him the weasel got help.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Oh, hey, a little while later. Like a few hours. He sounds high as a kite]

Mr. White?

[Heh.]

So much fucking morphine.

[whitetwoguns]

Yeah. It's me.

[At first he's worried, very worried. Pink is an annoying son of a bitch and probably the last man he'd put in much thought for but to think that anybody in all the City with all the heroic and Pollyanna types would pass him by is heartbreaking.

Except he's on morphine so he's fine.]

Sounds like that's a great place to be.

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Makes me fucking happy, is all I'm saying.

[whitetwoguns]

Did you get stitches and everything?

[A blood transfusion or five perhaps?]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

I made them test it. You know, for AIDS. I ain't getting no fag disease.

[dissolves]

How dramatic.

[pinkeffinprofessional]

You try having a gutshot, fuck.

[dissolves]

A "gutshot"?

[pinkeffinprofessional]

A shot.

To the gut.

[dissolves]

What kind of "shot"?

[pinkeffinprofessional]

A gun what are you slow?