"No! The bone! It's bone and bone then brain!" Dr. Maximilian Moore aggressively shook a dripping wet femur, stinking of formaldehyde in front of The Player's face. "We're gonna lose him!"
"It's a plastic doll…why do you yell every time?" The Player said with tension, her hand shaking.
A long beep indicated flatlining. The gnome on the table was dead. "Sonofabitch! We lost him!" Maximilian threw the gnome across the room, shattering it into pieces. They fell onto a growing pile of gnome bits. "I always lose my patients...and my patience, with you!" He pointed at The Player with a snarl.
"Okay, give me the 'moleons please." The Player outstretched her hand. "Aren't I like at level 5 yet?'" She nudged her head toward the pile of bits.
Maximilian whipped his body to face the Player. "You're a horrible surgeon! I'm going to fire you!" Spit droplets hit her face as he yelled. He pulled at his afro and groaned, leaning against a wall.
There was a pause. A calm musical jingle echoed in the halls. Maximilian stood up. "Congratulations, you've been promoted to head surgeon!" He gave The Player a thumbs-up and smiled as though he won the lottery. His eyes were still red with rage. She smiled back, oblivious.
"Yeah!" The Player said as she took the coins. "I'm gonna be a real surgeon one day!" Her eyes sparkled.
She turned to leave but Max placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. His voice was low and his breath tickled her neck. "If you ever say that again, I will cut off your legs and sew them on to Broadsheet."
His friendship points dropped to -45. The contents of her bladder dropped into her pants.
She left the hospital screaming and hopped on to her motorbike. "Still smells of Hogg's arse." she said to herself. She drove around town and every time she passed someone, they gagged. "Man, this bike reeks of the big guy; I really need to clean it."
As she got closer to her little place to squat, the man who sold trinkets outside her place coughed.
"You smell!" He snapped. They never got along.
"Get a real job!" She drove closer to him until he ran off like a rat and climbed up the drain pipe. "Yeah, I'm a doctor!" She shook her fist at him.
She slid off her bike. She knew that wasn't true. "Hobo."
She glanced at the items the man left behind. There was chocolate for days.
She opened the box and smelled it. "Same ones ol' Knick Knack Patty Whack used to sell. Smells of obesity and caramel." She shoved them into her pockets, skillfully fitting them in with that couch she always carried around in there.
Later that evening, she sat on the steps outside and began to eat the chocolates. She wanted to become a surgeon ever since she played doctor with Giuseppi Mezzoalto once. She didn't understand why he was so upset when she tried to cut his stomach open like a real practitioner. He didn't even let her operate on the 'blue balls' he said he then had.
The creaking of wheels made her turn to face its source. "Hey, Player!" It was Lincoln Broadsheet. "Why so glum, chum?" He parked beside her.
"I want to become a surgeon." She began, "But Dr. Maximilian told me he'd cut my legs off and sew them on you if I said that again." The Player pouted and cradled her chin into her hands before blowing a raspberry in childish disappointment.
"What? Wow, rude." Lincoln furrowed his brow. "I'd rather eat my own wheels than have him touch me, like seriously fu-" He stopped and remembered the game's E rating. "Fork that guy." He nudged her playfully but fell from his wheelchair.
The Player tried to hoist him back up. She struggled to lift him even a little. "Sorry, but a body of only 5 can't lift these beefy biceps." Lincoln selected the brag option on his end and winked.
He crawled back into his chair with ease. "You know, I was going to the university. If you want to become a surgeon you have to start studying." The Player smiled at his support. After a second, she frowned.
"D'oh. It's uncomfortable in that place." she muttered real close to Lincoln's ear, "I used to date the professor and it's awkward as heck." Lincoln gave her a blank, unimpressed expression. "Yeah but he's with Polly Amourous now." The Player gagged. "Ugh no, she makes things worse." The Player then protested further, "Besides, my, uh, hunger meter is very low!"
Lincoln tugged The Player into his lap. "Then feed on knowledge." Lincoln wheeled forward. "I'm not having some chump treat people like dirt just because he can save lives. Do you know how many lives journalism has saved?"
The Player looked at Lincoln, "None?"
Lincoln nodded firmly. "Exactly! And he tells me every day! I'm sick of it!" He spat on the ground in disrespect.
"Sorry about the pee in my pants." The Player said when she selected the apologize option. "Huh? No worries," Lincoln replied, "I know a thing or two about wetting my pants." The Player smiled and enjoyed the warm feeling of a +3 friendship increase. Maybe that was really the damp stains between them.
They entered the university. Filled with literal NPCs, the placed reeked of body odour, fat fold stench, hair dye and radical feminism. Ah, a true safe space.
The Player hopped off Lincoln's lap. As soon as her foot hit the floor when she walked forward, she crashed into another body. A slow, heavy breath filled The Player's nostrils with the scent of Doritos and Mountain Dew. "Excuse me," a barely effeminate voice said, "Do you have permission to be here?" The Player looked up. Drool trickled down the protruding lips of the creature above her, falling on the The Player's nose.
"Polly," The professor said, his smooth voice taming the beast, "Leave her alone. You know she's allowed to sit through a lecture."
Polly Nomial stepped back. Her vision now less focused on The Player, she saw Lincoln. "Ah, live long and prosper fellow Nerdie!" She gave him the Vulcan salute, which he returned. She trotted toward him and placed a thin leg up to his face. He exhaled with closed eyes, an expression of a man all too familiar with her actions. He took her ankle into his hands and a light, timid peck graced her foot.
"My Nerdie Queen." He formally addressed her.
The professor saw his chance. He placed his arm around the player's shoulder and walked her toward his office. "Please come back to me. Let's get out of here. We can go back to SimValley and live in that mansion like old times." Something about his mannerisms alarmed The Player. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his grin grew trembling and desperate.
"Daschell, I can't. I couldn't handle your fickle nature. One minute my kisses were a form of art for you and the next you only kissed supermodels!" The Player shook her head.
"I was wrong, my love. I was so wrong." Daschell was a dramatic man by nature, but this was getting ridiculous.
Before The Player could select another topic to speak about, hands slid up the professor's torso. One crawled down his shirt and pinched a nipple. "Time to teach the class, professor," Polly licked his ear, slobber sticking to his neck like slime trailing from a slug.
The professor smiled with a pain behind his eyes. "Help." He mouthed to The Player as Polly grinded on his hips.
The player only gave her ex a flat, unamused glare. He was on his own here.
By the end of the lecture, The Player looked no more encouraged than before. Lincoln was waiting for her, looking at past graduate photos. Someone always stuck a drawing of a stapler on his face. He huffed and peeled it off. He then popped a wheelie and turned to her. "Hey! You don't look so great. The professor just said you earned a skill point!" He rubbed his chin, "Although I'd understand if you missed that. He spoke so fast before he fell to his knees and cried."
The Player selected the option to cry, too.
Lincoln's eyes opened wide. "What's all this about?" He sounded like her ex just then, except Daschell tended to pronounce 'this' as 'thus'. Weird. The Player rubbed her eyes. "I won't ever be a surgeon with elective courses. I don't even have a BSc!"
Lincoln frowned. "Don't be like that! You have to believe in yourself! Look!" He spun around. "My wife left me when I lost my ability to walk. But that didn't stop me from finishing my masters studies and becoming the man I am today!" The Player smiled at that. "Well, I can always be a nurse. It's still better than operating on gnome dolls." She nodded and left the university. Lincoln sat there, mouth agape. "Gnomes?"
The painful sound of flesh on glass made Lincoln flinch. "I still love you…" The Professor whispered while rubbing the window staring at The Player. Lincoln slowly wheeled the heck out of that place.
A small crowd of students congregated around a shady bloke. Cocking his head, Lincoln wheeled toward it with concern and curiosity.
"Lincoln, look! Giuseppi is selling term papers!" The player tugged his collar. "And some can get me an M.D.!" She hopped around and clapped. Lincoln shook his head. "That's not the way to succeed." The Player stopped jumping in glee. "Yeah you're right." She rubbed her eyes. "I can play this world without cheats. Besides, I'd best turn in for the night; my pet needs to be fed, too."
She turned to Lincoln. "Thank you, Lincoln, for all your help." The Player selected the kiss option.
"No! This feels like a sting! Where's the camera?" Lincoln refused her advance and shoved her aside in disgust.
The two suddenly jumped; a man's loud imitation of a police vehicle startled everyone around. A few puddles grew on the floor. "Wee woo, wee woo!Hey! Mezzoalto! You can't have that van!" A megaphone amplified the voice of detective Dan D. Mann. "Wee woo! Wee woo!" His fatigued breaths were audible though the device as he ran.
"Piss off, pig!" Giuseppi yelled, pulling his nostrils up to resemble a swine's. His voice broke up the crowd of students around him. A fight was sure to start so they scattered, pants soiled. Giuseppi flung his arms into the air. "Ya made me lose my sales, ya fat fuck!"
Lincoln squealed like a girl when Giuseppi completely ignored the game's E-rating.
Dan D. Mann began to throw a tantrum and fell to the ground. Illegal sales, stolen vans, crowds peeing in public and swearing was just too much. The insult option now had him to the ground, defeated.
"That rivals my 3 year old." Lincoln said as he watched.
In the distance, a new challenger appeared and ran toward Giuseppi. He roared. "You can't sell those! I am sick of getting plagiarized papers!"
It was Maximilian. The Player glared at him before stepping inside her home. She had enough of him. "Bye, Lincoln. I'm going to bed. My sleep meter is low, and my shit-taking meter is fed up." Lincoln could not even wave good bye before she was gone.
Giuseppi simply gave the doctor the finger, barely making eye contact. "Beep boop. Robot noises and stuff."
"What?" Maximilian snapped in response.
Giuseppi rolled his eyes and flicked a cigarette to the ground. He made no effort to stomp it out. "It means fuck you, man." The glow of the cigarette was nothing compared to the doctor's red hot fury.
Unlike the pathetic Detective Dan D. Mann, Maximilian was no toddler in an adult's body. He always selected the intimidate option.
"Give me those papers or I'll gut you and sell your organs!" He leapt toward Giuseppi like an animal.
Giuseppi jumped out of the way; Maximilian struck the van and was stunned on the street.
It took Maximilian a few moments to recover; by the time he was stable, it was too late. He heard an engine. Muffled by the loud humming of the van, he also heard laughter.
Giuseppi carelessly backed his van up in an attempt to flee. His radio was blaring so loudly he was unable to hear the screams of the only doctor in town…who now needed a doctor. "Damn speed bumps." He grumbled to himself having selected the complain option.
"My legs! M-my legs! I cannot feel them!" Maximilian wailed into the city night skies. Awakened pigeons flew to the roofs. Their coos were haunting, like omens.
A slow mechanical creaking added to the eerie atmosphere. A shadow creeped over the doctor; squinting, he eventually gained focus on its source.
Lincoln towered over the man.
"Oh! Broadsheet! Thank goodness! Help me! I'll need a wheelchair...l-like you!" Maximilian begged, reaching out to grab Lincoln's legs. He shook them. They flopped like a cadaver's; they were just as lifeless as Lincoln appeared. He remained still, his face dark and cold.
"There can be only one." He growled.
"What?" Maximilian asked with a breathy sigh. His eyes widened and he let go of the man's legs.
Lincoln Broadsheet's biceps were bigger than your head. He was proud of that. They were the first things he looked at when he got dressed, the first things he bragged about to women.
They were the last things Maximilian would ever see; a neck like his was a toothpick.
The Player was sitting by the window. She saw it all. She popped a chocolate in her mouth. "Thank you, Lincoln, for all your help."
She selected the kiss option. He'd never know.