Figgis 8: At The Hospital

Latest installment, which is not quite as funny as the others. Writing has been hard this week, family commitments and such. I'm thinking writing every day may be a tad ambitious. Maybe a weekly target of 2 or 3 posts would be more achieveable. I'm not sure, I'll reassess after Christmas. Anyway, enjoy...

 At The Hospital

Apparently the three of them were not the only victims of the Transformation Studio. It looked like Dr Moreau’s waiting room up at the local Accident & Emergency unit. A mermaid with human legs but flippers for arms, several human sized bats and a woman covered head to toe in fur were only some of the other people waiting. Figgis tried to engage this last person in conversation, making a joke about at least she didn’t have paws to go with the fur so she could at least shave if it off and look halfway normal.

This got them seen pretty quickly; the punch the woman delivered required stitches. Figgis had never before heard of hypertrichosis. He wasn’t likely to forget it either.

“I can’t believe she hit me!” He moaned.

“Basically you called her a dog,” Bel pointed out, “I think I would have smacked you too.”

Figgis, his newly sutured eyebrow still oozing blood, sighed. “Yeah, as chat up lines go, it wasn’t a terribly good one.”

“Cheer up, fur-face,” Bel gave him a rueful grin, “at least you’re back to normal. Me and Theresa are still shafted.”

They were back in the waiting room after their brief stint in the suture room, it appeared very few of the failed Transformation victims were getting any medical treatment, but there was already posters on the wall offering LO-COST BODY STORAGE and HAD A FAILED TRANSFORMATION? YOU HAVE A CLAIM! NO WIN NO FEE!

“You know what we ought to do?” Theresa said, “we ought to go find wherever the bastards have moved to and demand they make us human again.”

Bel snorted, “yeah, I bet they've left a forwarding address.”

“I bet you could find them on the internet,” Figgis said at last, “that’s how I found them in the first place.”

“Really?” Theresa looked interested, “I just saw the shop walking past.”

“You just saw it and went in?” Bel asked, incredulous, “and you just happened to have a spare million credits to spend? That’s one hell of a impulse buy.”

Theresa shrugged, “I’d been saving up.”

“A million credits? That’s like, two years wages!”

“It was for a house deposit,” Theresa said, and looked perilously close to tears, “I was going to buy a house with my boyfriend.”

“What happened?” Figgis asked, expecting her to confirm her single status, hoping it wasn’t something too tragic. A cheating ex being less tragic than a dead one. Better still, Theresa kicking the ex out. It wasn’t like he was hoping to step into the guys shoe... no wait. That’s pretty much exactly what he fancied doing.

“We split,” Theresa said. “He said he wasn’t ready for commitment.”

Figgis mentally hoorayed. Commitment he could do. Hell, he could go all the way through commitment into low-level stalking if that’s what she needed. Not major stalking though, that tended to get people looking at you strange and police officers having Quiet Words.

"How about you two?” Theresa asked, “how did you afford it?”

“I won it,” Figgis admitted. “Stuck hundred creds on the lottery, won ten million.”

Bel whistled. “Not bad, drinks on you then."

“What about you?” Theresa asked Bel.

 “The opposite to you, I sold my house so I could lease it instead.” Bel sighed, “I decided to live out the rest of my days in reckless days and wild debauchery.”

And now Figgis got an inkling of real tragedy. He didn’t ask what she meant by ‘the rest of my days’, he didn’t have to.
“You’re dying?” Theresa clapped both hands over her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t...”

“Well, not now, obviously.” Bel grinned and shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, I asked for immortality and I’ve gotten it.”

Only one thing puzzled Figgis, “so why ask to be rehumanised? If you’re just going to die if you do?”

“I was sort of hoping they’d sort all that out." She got up from the seat she was pretending to sit on and wafted towards the window, not looking at her new friends. “On second thoughts, you’re right, sod being rehumanised, we should just go out and have fun instead.”

“But these wings...”

“Are sexy as all hell,” Figgis got to his feet. “Fuck this, who wants a pint? It’s my round.” he held out his hand and Theresa slipped hers into it.

“Let’s go then,” Theresa smiled.

And then they walked out of the hospital into the hazy spring sunshine.

“Wait a minute, you’ve left me behind,” Bel complained. “Are you just going to leave me propped up in the bloody waiting room?”

Figgis sighed. This was not the happy ending he’d hoped for...