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<blockquote data-quote="maddmic" data-source="post: 2625571" data-attributes="member: 9989">Victor looks back inside his clinic and is troubled.&nbsp; Should he get a chair, bring it out on the front stoop, and sit down?&nbsp; Or should he just wait for the fire works?&nbsp; Jesse Smitts was just some grunt Purple Belly who hadn't really done a darn thing in the war.&nbsp; Victor had sewn him up on occasion eventhough he couldn't stand the Alliance scum.&nbsp; Although, he ensured that the stitches would heal grotesquely.&nbsp; He chuckled at that fact.&nbsp; Every chance he got, he did his best to do his worst in fixin' up them Purple Bellies.&nbsp; Funny thing was that none of them seemed to call him on it.&nbsp; Maybe it was that they were just to drunk to notice yet.&nbsp; On more than one occassion though, Victor had wanted to pull his pistol and bash their face in.&nbsp; He never really understood why he felt that way, but was glad that he didn't follow through.&nbsp; His leg hurt, or at least his phantom leg hurt.&nbsp; He knew that it would take time for the pain to subside and the feeling to go away, but this was getting ridiculous.&nbsp; It had been almost 7 years....&nbsp; Maybe he had better take another pain killer.&nbsp; If these boys broke out in a fight, it could be a long night.&nbsp; The doctor turns and moves inside his clinic again.&nbsp; He pulls one of the pills from it's bottle and pops it in his mouth.&nbsp; He then grabs a glass of water and washes it down.&nbsp; He had finally made up his mind.&nbsp; He grabbed the chair and hobbled outside with it.&nbsp; Placing it on the stoop, he sat down and lifted his right leg over his left.&nbsp; He then breathed in deeply taking the fresh night air in.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="maddmic, post: 2625571, member: 9989"] Victor looks back inside his clinic and is troubled. Should he get a chair, bring it out on the front stoop, and sit down? Or should he just wait for the fire works? Jesse Smitts was just some grunt Purple Belly who hadn't really done a darn thing in the war. Victor had sewn him up on occasion eventhough he couldn't stand the Alliance scum. Although, he ensured that the stitches would heal grotesquely. He chuckled at that fact. Every chance he got, he did his best to do his worst in fixin' up them Purple Bellies. Funny thing was that none of them seemed to call him on it. Maybe it was that they were just to drunk to notice yet. On more than one occassion though, Victor had wanted to pull his pistol and bash their face in. He never really understood why he felt that way, but was glad that he didn't follow through. His leg hurt, or at least his phantom leg hurt. He knew that it would take time for the pain to subside and the feeling to go away, but this was getting ridiculous. It had been almost 7 years.... Maybe he had better take another pain killer. If these boys broke out in a fight, it could be a long night. The doctor turns and moves inside his clinic again. He pulls one of the pills from it's bottle and pops it in his mouth. He then grabs a glass of water and washes it down. He had finally made up his mind. He grabbed the chair and hobbled outside with it. Placing it on the stoop, he sat down and lifted his right leg over his left. He then breathed in deeply taking the fresh night air in. [/QUOTE]

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