In some sort of a coma-like state, Frankie Gnarly was being hauled into the emergency room on a hospital bed with a couple of nurses on his sides to make sure he gets in the emergency room, and get the treatment he needed to keep himself alive and look at the diagnosis of what was going on with the amazing surfer with incredible talents on that surfboard of his. In the emergency room, the doctors had tubes on the guy's nipples and his heart was rather beating normally as if there was nothing wrong with him at all.
Despite his normal heart rate, something was definitely amiss with him. Something was changing inside of his own DNA that people might find out once they get a perfect diagnosis of the poor guy
"Well, it should show us the problem with Franky at any second now." said the doctor. "Just give it at least thirty seconds before the results are in one-hundred percent."
"Oh, I don't want this handsome man to die!" said one nurse.
"Me neither!" another one shrieked. "He is too hot to die!" By the looks of it, the nurses had the hots for Gnarly, and the famous expert surfer had quite the good looks, and the muscles on his side to woo all the beautiful ladies at any beach. The nurses sounded more desperate than the doctors were in trying to save him from imminent death.
"A-ha!" said the doctor, finally having the full results of the diagnosis. "He appears to be in a stable condition, but... wait. This is a little... unusual and unexpected."
"What is it Doctor Finkleman?" asked one of the cute nurses.
"He is not going to die, but something is rather off. Something is changing inside of his DNA, and it is rather making him morph or develop a metamorphosis of some kind."
"A mutation?" said a third nurse
"That is exactly what it looks like. A mutation would be a perfect way to describe him."
"Like into a monster?" the first nurse asked the doctor.
"I am... not very sure. This is quite uncanny and quite peculiar. Car accidents, cancer, elephantiasis, salmonella, and smallpox are many things, but this is something I have never seen before in my entire life."
"Can we fix him?" asked a second nurse
"We can try." the doctor pulled out CPR paddles into his hands, rubbing them against each other in a rapid pace. "And... CLEAR!" he shocked at the stunned surfer.
"No response." the first nurse said
"OK, let's try this again. And... CLEAR!" All the second one made Frankie do was twitch his body from the effect of the shocking as if he was a ragdoll instead of a human being.
"No response." she repeated
"Sometimes it takes a few tries, Alice. We cannot give up on him."
"And he is so handsome!" said a fourth nurse. "I... i mean- we cannot lose one of the greatest surfers ever, or his gorgeous face!" she began panicking and hyperventilating in a brown paper bag in an attempt to calm herself down. 'Matter of fact, all the nurses were having brown bags of their own to panic themselves in with their mouths.
Doctor Finkleman looked rather annoyed by this, and rolled his eyes. "Ladies, ladies! Calm down!" he barked. "There is no need to make a federal case out of it. We can bring him back. My paddles probably just need more volts of pure energy to make his heart work again." He was about to do it a third time, but it was just then the surfer slowly awoken from being stunned, and looked around.
"Oh my gosh! He's alive!" a fifth nurse shrieked with joy.
"Where am I?" asked Frankie. "Did I die? Is this heaven?"
"No, of course not." said the doctor. "If it was heaven, it would be an eternally peaceful paradise for all mankind with no more individuals fighting one another over foolish disputes."
"True dat." said Frankie. "One love, and one heart, dude. Although my picture of heaven would be surfing in the most beautiful ocean with all the cute girls I can ever have." The other nurses began coddling up to him and were like cats demanding attention from their owner so badly
"Even us?"
"Oh yeah. You girls are medicine to my eyes. I would be sure to have you pretty ladies be with me in heaven for as long as time stands."
Every one of the nurses sighed and they began dreaming of having Frankie Gnarly be with them for the rest of eternity. "Well, are you feeling alright, mister Gnarly?"
"Well, i'm lucky to be alive and my head hurts a little. Feels like I got conked by a golf club, man."
"I see. Do you feel any other symptoms like a fever or any sensitivity to any light?"
"Nope. Not really. My head just hurts a little is all. No other side effects. But I would like to know what happen and how I just went to sleep like that." Frankie admitted.
"From the top, what happened?" Finkleman asked calmly and flatly
"Right, good idea." the surfer took a breath and explained to everyone the whole story of how he just dropped into unconsciousness and how he ended up here in the emergency room. "So after I drank some lemonade, I just felt like everything was going as black as night, without the moon or the stars to light up the sky. Then, ker-plap! I found myself in the hospital and here I am."
"Well, you said there was a man in the district that looked like someone in a business or corporation while the others looked like they were going to the beach?"
"Yeah! Although I have a feeling that he was wearing a tuxedo. I mean come on, you don't drink lemonade while wearing a tux. It's a waste of a good suit. No girl will go out with you if you have one tiny drop of mustard on your tux. So, anyway, am I feeling ok?"
"Well, you do not have the symptoms I have mentioned before?"
"Nope. I feel as great like a man after taking a dip in a hot tub." he flexed his muscles some more. Suddenly, he saw a nurse carrying a tray of buttered croissants, possibly to offer it to him since she likes his good looks as well. "Oh! Excuse me little lady, can I have one of those?" suddenly, his right arm turned into water, and splashed on the nurse like a hose, but not as powerful and forceful as a fire-hose. Everyone was quite surprised, and the poor nurse was soaking wet. "Whoa." said Frankie, looking at his arm in surprise.
