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Wrex and Bingo Hospital Bound


B-17

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Orderly: Mr. Ross. Your boss has made it very clear. The handcuffs stay on until you are dismissed from the hospital. In his own words, “fix that stoopid mothafucker up and get 'em back in the ring.”

 

Wrex yanked at the frame of the gurney angrily.

Wrex: At least get me some fucking beer, or some fucking painkillers you fat cunt.

 

The orderly was indeed hefty, but she ignored him while smirking in a knowing way. Wrex didn’t notice. He was too busy brooding over his loss two days earlier at Consequence to B17 in what might have been his most grueling match ever. Even he had found himself surprised by Bingo’s viciousness which had left him with an enlarged spleen, two cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion. But he had given as good as he had gotten.

Wrex: Where are you taking me? My room is nowhere near here.

 

Orderly: Oh honestly we are sick of dealing with you. You’re rude, mildly misogynistic, crude, overall just an annoying person. Luckily we think we have a roommate that can deal with you. Someone just as difficult as you.

 

B17: I WILL NOT PUT ON YOUR SCRATCHY SHEETS!

 

Wrex: You cunt.

 

But Wrex was helpless to stop her as she rolled him into a room occupied by two nurses and a butt naked Bingo laying cross armed on his bed the only thing he was wearing was an eye patch and bandages across his lower abdomen and left arm.

Wrex: You’re fucking evil.

 

He scowled as everyone left besides him and Bingo, who looked delighted to have company.

B17: Wrex!

 

Wrex: Fuckhead.

 

Bingo laughed but quickly stopped and held at his stomach.

Wrex: Sensation force you here too?

 

B17: Him and a cattle prod.

 

A dark blue bruise covered half of Bingo’s face, some of it was covered by the patch, but it was clear it extended all the way to his scalp.

Wrex: Could you please cover up for once?

 

B17 shrugged and threw the blankets over him.

 

Wrex: How’s the eye?

 

Why did he care?

B17: I don’t know. Bunch of mumble jumble. Something about a ladder smashing into my face and leaving severe trauma and scratches. Do you know anything about that?

 

Wrex: I should have poked the other one out too.

 

Bingo chuckled.

B17: I should have dropped you head first onto the steel steps.

 

Wrex: You did.

 

Bingo contemplated that for a moment.

Wrex: Next time I will leave you on the ground after you belly flop through a table.

 

B17: Next time I should just dislocate your shoulder and trap your arm to start.

 

It was Wrex’s turn to chuckle.

Wrex: You won't be the first to try.. Or succeed.. Hey, Bingo.

 

B17: What?

 

Wrex: I hope your eye fuckin rots.

 

Bingo smiled.

Bingo: I hope they amputate the arm.

 

Wrex: It’d be worth the two weeks off.

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