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   A Day In The Life
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                                       **Warning: Graphic medical images below.

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The Story Unfolds...

Season Nine, Episode Fifty Six

 A Day In The Life  

Debut Launch: July 1st, 2011.

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**************************************************
From:  patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Subject: Sugar and Spice and Everything....  
Sent: Thu 7/21/11 1:30 AM


Riinnnng!

".. Ahhh!" mumbled Dixie as she nap jerked awake on her rumpled canopy bed as
her front apartment door bell suddenly rang. "OhmyG*d.." she groaned, her muscles
following betraying instincts as they got her to her stumbling feet to fetch a robe.
McCall's groggy expression gelled into an irritated scowl as the angle of the moon
through her bedroom window told her what time it was. "Five a.m.?!" she blurted out.
Feet finding soft slippers, McCall felt her way into the living room without turning
any lamps on to spare her sleep crusted eyes. "This had better be a fire or I'm.."

She jerked the door open.."...Hi, Mrs. Fishmeyer? What are you doing here at my
door? Are you feeling sick?" she said sweetly, her tone barely keeping ice from casual
politeness.

"No, no.. I'm fine dearie.." said Millicent as she shoved on by Dixie and reached
out for the nearest light switch.. "I just need to borrow a small cup of sugar."

"Oh, no..no..no. Don't-!" Dixie simpered in horror.. Flick! "AHHH!" she grunted, falling back
against the wall as her nosy neighbor sent unwanted light bulb illumination deep into her
headache-y brain.  "Okay. I guess a trip and fall wouldn't be so good for someone
at your age, Millie." she admitted, covering her eyes with her messy frosted hair.

Millicent just beamed as she helped herself to Dixie's cupboard for the sugar bowl
she knew was there. "I'm only 94, Dixie. A few more lumps wouldn't make that much
difference in my case. I had two feet stuck firmly into the grave a month ago."

"I know. I'm the one who found you in cardiac arrest by your petunias and called
the fire department."

Millicent's sweet silver eyes twinkled. "I figured you owed me one since you broke
three ribs along my sternum doing that car-deal-plumbing-regurgitation thing on me."

"That's cardiopulmonary resuscitation, Millie. C.P.R? You were dead. I had to do
something. Your eyes were still reactive to light." McCall told her, sinking miserably
down onto a breakfast stool.  

"Oh, yeah? Well, so are yours from the looks of things. Did you and Kel do too much
hosting at your party last night? We all heard the racket." she said, digging out a
crumbled plastic bag from her quilted sea green flannel robe pocket.

"From the community room? Millie that's over five hundred feet away from everybody's
apartment." Dixie insisted, joining Millie in the kitchen to help herself to a cold glass of
water she got from the tap in the sink.

"I had the windows open. Ninety two degrees isn't hot enough for me."

Dixie eyed up her neighbor professionally. "You're still feeling cold? And you waited
this long to tell me..." she pegged accusingly. "It's five in the morning."

"5: 03, dearie. Look at your watch. I can't be that bad, I'm hungry. So I decided I'd bake
some cookies. Hence the sugar loan." gestured Millie at her barely filled baggie that she was
filling with one tiny one eighth measuring spoonful at a time, myopically.

"Humor me, Millie. I'm going to check you out." said McCall, reaching into another
cupboard to pull out Kel's medical bag. She dragged out a stethoscope and blood pressure
cuff. "Sit down."

"I'm not done getting the sugar yet."

Dixie upturned the whole bowl into Millie's bag dramatically and tied the large baggy swiftly
shut with a deft knot. "Yes you are. See?"

Millie sat, cowed reluctantly. "My pulse rate's fine. Ever since that shock Roy and Johnny
gave me, I swear I can hear my heartbeat inside my ears."

Dixie snorted as she wrapped a cuff around Millie's thin rosy arm. "I'd be listening for
my pulse, too, if a bee stung me and stopped my heart cold." she scoffed, blowing loose
bangs out of her way as she read the dial. "So, speaking of which, are you?"

"I'm freezing." Millie peeped.

"Your pressure's normal, thank G*d." Dixie said, sighing as she released the air on the band.
"I'll fix you a cup of hot tea."

Millie nodded her thanks, still sitting quietly on Dixie's bar stool. Then she leaned over and
whispered in a conspiratory tone. "So, was Chet really there at your party?"

Dixie dropped her head from where she was setting a tea kettle onto the gas stove. "Yes, he
was. And yes, he's still cute as ever. But he's already got a girlfriend. A real serious one."

Millie was disappointed. "Oh, yeah? Who?" she asked curiously.

"I can't tell you that. It'd be an invasion of Mr. Kelly's privacy." Dixie told her kindly but firmly.

"Aww, Dixie. I wouldn't tell a soul. I'll bet she's really cute."

McCall didn't rise to the bait. She just got frank. "So why this sudden interest in a firefighter
old enough to be your grandson? You've been at it for two weeks now."

"He saved my life. He was the one giving me octagon when I wasn't breathing."

"That's oxygen. And you remember that?" Dixie asked, surprised.

"Sure do." Millie blinked shyly. "I was floating all around all of you. And boy was I embarrassed
my shirt was torn off and wide open for the whole world to see."

"It was night time and it was just the seven of us in your garden. The neighbors didn't see you.
They were all still sleeping." McCall prompted firmly. "Besides, it wasn't for long. I covered you
up with a blanket as soon as we got your heart going because I knew how you'd feel about it all."
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"I still got cold." Fishmeyer mused, accepting the tea Dixie finally poured her eagerly.

"That'll happen. So, how are you really? Something tells me that your visit tonight isn't just a simple
little grocery borrowing call." Dixie grinned gently, patting Millie's age trembling freckled hand.

"I think I want to become a nurse at the hospital. I've had that notion in my head ever since
I woke up there. Is that possible?" Millie asked, grasping Dixie's folded hands.

Dixie McCall's shocked mouth flopped open and just stayed there, the water glass in her hand
completely forgotten in her fingers' grasp.

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*****************************************************
From: patti keiper (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: Sat 9/03/11 6:16 AM
Subject: It's Never Black and White

"She's so sweet, guys. But what am I supposed to do?" Dixie moaned, practically
running like taffy off of her emergency desk stool with indecision and mild anxiety.

Brackett shrugged. "What you've been doing for the last seventeen years, Dix.
Delegate the responsibility. Mrs. Fishmeyer's request is, conveniently for us, not
your department."

McCall dropped her head reluctantly to the side. "Yeah, but she's our neighbor,
Kel. A good one. I can't just turn my back on helping her out a little."

Joe Early just smirked, his gray eyes sparkling beneath his silver bangs. "We
already did. We saved her life last month. Millicent's bill has already been earned
in full for services rendered as far as obligation and duty is concerned. Nobody
said that included hand holding a ninety four year old through a nursing degree
and training program, no matter how well we're acquainted with the patient."

Dixie's eyes remained dubious and full of guilt.

Kel's mouth twitched in irony. "You know.. If I recall right, only the reverse is true."

McCall drained her coffee mug unenthusiastically. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

Brackett moved carefully out of slapping range before he clarified. "Roy and
Johnny saved your life; they were practically bound to it while you were
training them. Remember almost being squished by a certain fast falling car?"

That cracked a very faint smile out of the petite nurse that was impossible
to hide. "I am being a little ridiculous, huh?" she asked, keeping her eyes
lowered to the desktop.

"Yep. No train, no pain." Kel grinned right back at her once she had glanced
back up again at them.

Dixie finally handed out the two admittance chart stacks she had been
preparing for the doctors while they talked. "These are ready. All they
need are your signatures."

Early nodded in agreement with Kel's sentiment. "Send her on to Volunteering,
or off to the nursing school at Ojai. Your schedule's full enough as it is."

Kel snorted. "Even if it has been a little slow in the case load depart--"

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Dixie's eyes widened from coaxed happy to horrified. "No..no..no..no. Don't
say it. You'll jinx--"

The emergency desk station phone rang immediately. The red one.
Dixie just closed her eyes in defeat after glaring daggers at Kel acidly.
She picked up the receiver from the wall. "Rampart Emergency, this is
Nurse Dixie McCall speaking." Suddenly, she was snapping her fingers
at Joe for a blank doctor's notes chart sheet to write on. "Okay,..how
many?"

Joe and Kel looked at each other in anticipation and Dr. Brackett almost
began to speak.

Dixie held up a one moment finger. "..Uh huh....Got it. Okay. We'll be
ready in ten minutes." She hung up the phone.

Kel was all business. "What do we got?"

Dixie reported from her notes. "That was L.A.P.D. They've just had a prison
break and riot gone bad. Not only are a lot of inmates and officers wounded,
but one or two felons actually got out and got away and are assumed to be still
shooting up the west side of town somewhere in Carson. We've eighty minor,
and five critical coming our way."

Dr. Brackett started snapping out orders. He grabbed a passing orderly's
sleeve to get his attention. "Go find Sharon Walters. Tell her to set up all the
available rooms in the hospital with whatever general floor staff she has
coming on shift. Right now."

"Yes, sir." the man replied and walked quickly away for the nearest stairwell.

"Joe.." Kel prompted. "Can you call Communications and have them tune into
the scanner in the base station and have it piped out here? We're gonna need
it for preliminary casualty estimates. And a TV set to the news wouldn't be such
a bad idea either."

"I'm on it." said Early, picking up a black wall phone.

Dixie's mouth ironed out into one of concentration."I'll initiate a Code Orange.
All off-duty personnel in an all-call page?" she asked both doctors.

"Yes. Including surgical and the residents' staff." replied Early.

"Especially Mike. He can sail that boat of his into the harbor if necessary if he's
gotta get here fast. I have a feeling we may need his medical command skills from the
navy in a triage operation out in the parking lot before all of this is over." Brackett
gruffed. He watched the hallway call lights turn amber as McCall finished speaking
with the hospital operator. Then they all heard the hospital intercom come to life.
##Doctor Orange to Emergency. Stat. Doctor Orange to Emergency. Stat.##

Soon, those who could rendevous from in-house first for the crisis alert, were there.

Joe Early took over as the Logistics Head, leaving Brackett free to handle Rampart's
incident command.

Joe motioned his assembled staff away from the desk into a close huddle along
one wall of the corridor. "Listen up, people. We have an MCI of just under one
hundred involving blunt trauma, burns, and a whole lot of GSW's." That drew a gasp
from the younger med students standing close by their preceptor physicians.

"Sir, what the heck happened? Did a war break out?" asked one of them.

Joe smiled. "In a way, yes. Let's just call it another foray into the old cops and
robbers game. And here's us, getting ready to do all the clean up. For a
while, we won't know who's actually winning this one. And we won't care. We'll be
treating both indiscriminately. Got it?"

A burble of affirmations met his ear.

"We are orange until further notice. Perform your assigned tasks and get
ready to start receiving patients in five minutes. Let's move!" Early ordered.
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Station 51's exit bell on the door leading out to the backyard, rang just once.

"I'll get it!" said Mike Stoker, shooting up out of his chair. The lanky, soft
spoken engineer beat Boot the dog out of the kitchen.

Hank started smiling with raised eyebrows. "Okay, who spiked the coffee
with more coffee without telling him?" asked Cap.

Three magazine and newspaper laden hands pointed squarely at Gage.

"I didn't make the coffee!" Johnny said incredulously, his mouth still full of pilfered
donut.

Chet Kelly scoffed. "No, but you did buy the jumbo sized filters instead of the smalls.
You know how Stoker likes to measure out grounds by knuckle depth from the bottom."
insisted the curly haired Irish fireman.

"Not my fault he's so unobservant five minutes after waking up from a nap." Johnny
speculated, a half smile betraying the joke he was playing on the engineer.

Cap just narrowed his scruntiny, talking louder to be heard over Boot's excited yapping
over a door bell call excursion. "Yeah? Well if we miss a turn today in the Ward and pile
through a freeway wall into the L.A. River bed, the two of you are gonna be coming in after
us."

Gage looked surprised in mock. "You had some doubt about that?"

Next to them, Roy hissed out a cautionary whisper. "Down, boys. It's the caffeine talking
for the both of ya."

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"Huh?" Johnny said, eyeing up his partner. "Oh, uh,.. sorry, Cap." he remarked sheepishly,
raining crumbs all over Marco's sports page.

"Hey!" Lopez irritatedly shook them off with disgust.

Hank took in a deep breath and let it out again, offhandedly checking his own carotid with
a few fingertips. "Racing, just like my mouth is. Ditto, Gage. Wow. Somebody go dump
that thing out.." he said, pointing to the chrome coffee pot centered on the table, "..and
replace it with a pitcher of ice water. We're gonna need it before too--" he broke off when
Boot's noisy barking suddenly fell into silence.

Then Stoker's voice came high and squeaky. "Guys?! Get out here! On the double!"

The gang ran and skidded around the corner to the right to get there. Some of their urgency
left as they approached when they heard Mike hook the door shut with a clever foot.

Something soft, yellow and billowy was in his arms. "You're not going to believe this. Look!"
he said, his face still stunned and tight with concern.

Inside of a blood sodden flannel blanket lay a naked newborn baby, placenta and umbilical
cord still attached.

Roy's fatherly and paramedic instincts kicked right in. "Whoa. Give her to me." he said about
the weakly squirming infant, actively shivering in the gory mess surrounding her. He could still
see signs of fresh birth purpling, around her head, arms and legs.

Gage immediately gripped her upper arm, feeling for the brachial artery. "Fast, but strong." He
quickly eyed up the stains soaking up from the pool of blood cradled around the baby's tiny body
and the amount dripping onto the concrete floor. "There's a lot of hemorrhage here, but none of
it is hers."

DeSoto nodded, carefully tipping back the baby's head slightly so she could breathe better.
"I agree. The cord's already drained out its volume on its own into her circulation and sealed
itself off." He looked up at Hank in a new thought. "Cap, the mother can't be too far away yet.
This afterbirth's still warm."

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Hank popped open the door again and whistled at Boot. "Go find momma, boy. As fast as you
can. She needs us badly."

With an eager whine, Boot launched himself into search dog mode with a single leap and was
gone into the brightening sunrise outside in the backyard.

"Chet, follow him! Then get back here once you've got a lead on which way the mother
might have headed. We'll let the police find her first." Hank ordered.

Johnny nodded. "She can't get far, Chet. She'll black out soon from all of that blood loss."
he said, following Roy and the baby as he went running for the oxygen and drug boxes in
the squad.

Kelly snatched a handy talkie from the engine's cab and was almost out the door when
a shadow fell over the sunlight beaming into the bay. A gloved hand shoved back and
slammed the door into Chet, blocking his path and knocking him backwards onto his
butt. Cap and Marco startled.

"Not so fast, mister. You ain't going nowhere." came a deep gravelly voice from the
sudden intruder as he forced his way into the fire station. A long muzzled gun suddenly
pointed at Chet's face. "Nobody move, or hero boy here eats some serious lead."

A very large man stood there with a smaller male companion. And they were both wearing
Los Angeles County prison orange.


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From:  patti keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Subject: For Life.....    
Date: Sat Oct 1, 2011 10:29 pm

Chet Kelly stayed on the floor, eyeing up the bald, armed convict who had pushed him down.
Wisely, he made no grab for the handy talkie lying on the floor between them and he
said no words at all as he fought to regain the wind that had been knocked violently
out of him.

The gunman glanced over at his shorter, fire haired companion who quickly paced the
whole distance around the vehicle bay at a nervous jog.  "How many?" he growled
at him, pulling perspiration drenched orange material away from his
neck.

The smaller convict ducked his head. "This isn't all of them, Stu. I'm hearing noises
in the kitchen."

Hank spoke up, still not moving his hands. "Uh, those are our two paramedics.
They're not going to try anything. All they have on their minds right now is that baby.
They brought her in there so they'd have a higher up place to treat her off the floor."
Cap noticed some blood smears staining the orange material on Stu's jail colored
jump suit. "The mother may be in trouble, too. H-Have you seen her?" he asked very
softly, keeping his eyes downcast to show that he was offering no confrontation
whatsoever.

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Just talking proved to be too much. Stu paced over to Hank angrily and jammed
the muzzle of his gun hard under the captain's jawline as he gripped his hair
tightly in a control move. The others saw that he was taller than Cap easily by
six inches or more and was a hundred pounds heavier. "We're asking all of
the questions here! Not any of you fire boys!" he said a little wild-eyed with
stress. But then his monstrous sudden rage was forced down in a very difficult
mental battle. "But,...since you asked so nicely, I'll--"  Stu broke off when an
agonized, mournful howling from Boot outside began close by.

Stu's younger accomplice grinned, his mouth missing teeth underneath a mop
of dirty and tangled red hair. "Aww. Ain't that sweet? Your mutt's found the rest
of our bait already. That didn't take long." he sniffed, looking at a few bloody
fingernails. "Stu, I told you the dumpster wouldn't work for hiding it." said
the tinier man, his bloodshot blue eyes, bugging out of his acne scarred face.

Hank felt a sick stab of nausea when he realized that they were referring
to a fresh corpse; the baby's mother. Behind him, Mike Stoker barely stifled
a gag of horror.  Cap dipped his head in subtle warning to his engineer
not to provoke their sudden, emotionally unstable invaders.

On the floor, Kelly finally began to breathe again as air suddenly returned
to his stunned body in great heaving gasps. In a few seconds, his eyes were
no longer as glazed nor as frightened as before.

Cap never looked away from Kelly as he recovered slowly.

Stu finally shifted beady brown eyes away from the gang.
"It's not like we had a lot of choices, Ice. There's still too many eyes out there
with the rush hour on the freeway!" he snapped, pushing up a little harder
on the gun pinning Cap's head under his huge hand.

The gang's expressions must have betrayed some unveiled disgust because the
younger, red maned man just started grinning bigger. "What? Why the long faces,
gentlemen? We're not baby killers. Babies don't squeal in any way that matters. Girls
on the other hand, are notorious for running at the mouth exactly when you don't want
them to." Ice explained coolly, trying to neaten his gore spattered hair with a few
fingers.

Stu wasn't so relaxed. He turned a carefully calculating look at their fire station hostages.
"One of you. Go call your dog in so he doesn't give away our fun little impromptu party
crashing here to the neighbors."

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For several numbing seconds, fear reigned and nobody moved. Then...

"I'll do it." said Marco, his face a little pale, but alert. He lifted his hands clear of
his pockets as he volunteered himself for the task.  On his way across
the bay, he hoisted Chet back up to his feet with a helping hand.

"Easy, fireman.." Stu told him, twitching the gun muzzle towards the door as he stepped
away from Cap in one swift, guarded move to cover Lopez with the gun.
"All right, amigo. Yeah, you go fetch your fido. No tricks!" he said, shaking off the sweat that
was dripping down his bald head. "Now, the rest of you. Join up with your do gooder
friends in there. Move."  he whistled, tossing a large hunting knife through the air from his
sleeve for Ice to brandish at Lopez. "Kill him if he tries anything. A rise in body count can't
make our life sentences any longer. Not any more." he frowned darkly.

Ice laughed maniacally. "Yeah, Stu. This is our swan song gig, as agreed. The city  
owes us big for all those past sh*tty public defenders they sent in. Time for some equal
representation, wouldn't you say?  We got us what? Six public lives for our two lives right
here? We're gonna have ourselves a lot of fun tonight, now ain't we?"

Stu grinned quietly, full of calm menace, silently.

Marco opened the back access door and began whistling. "Here, Boot. Heel!" his voice
cracked as he avoided touching the still wet bloody palm print one of the convicts had left
there from their struggle to get inside the fire station.

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In the kitchen,  Roy and Johnny already had their gear out. Suction, oxygen and an
emergency endotracheal airway. "I got her.." Gage said, connecting a neonatal bag
valve mask to the end of the tiny tube DeSoto had placed into the baby's windpipe.
He began bagging the newborn lightly. "She's on one hundred percent O2. Breathing's
still not picking up."

"Keep at it. There still may be amniotic fluid left in her lungs." Roy said.

The tiny infant was no longer blue, but she was limp, like a crumpled toy doll on top of
the bare kitchen table. The soaked blanket full of blood had been cast aside
at their feet.

Roy was still listening apically to the baby's heartbeat with a stethoscope. "Placement's
good. Her perfusion's holding. But we've got to get her warmer a.s.a. p. or we're
gonna lose this pulse in a few minutes." he said, shoving the drained afterbirth and
still intact umbilical cord out of the way with a practiced elbow.

Gage looked up from his resuscitation efforts. "Hey, Chet! Come in here and
get the oven on quick! We're gonna use it as an thermal incubator until the ambulance
gets here!"

There was no reply.

"Cap?" Johnny shouted again. "Did any of you guys hear me?"

A gunshot rang out, making both paramedics startle and flinch violently over their
small patient.

"What the H*ll?!" Gage gaped, whipping his head around toward the vehicle bay.

A sharp keening yelp and scrabbling claws on concrete filtered in loudly through the
kitchen door's cracks.

"Take this." Johnny said tossing his head at the ventilation bag attached to the
unconscious baby. He grabbed up the nearest thing to him to use as a defensive
weapon, one of the kitchen chairs, and lined up by the door. "Somebody just shot
Boot! I saw him running away underneath the engine. There's blood all over the place."
he said, after ducking back down from a fast peek through the window.
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Roy crouched down behind the table after sliding the baby into his arms, wrapping
her inside of a kitchen towel hastily. "Do you see the guys?!" he asked, scared as
he kept up the baby's bagged breaths.

"No.. I'm gonna--" Gage hissed.

The kitchen door suddenly popped open.

Cap was the first one through the door. "Whoa!" he said, intercepting Gage's
defensively swung chair with a firm grip. "It's me! There's two of them. Now
put this down before they see it!"

Gage hastily complied and kicked it back over to the table with a backward
foot just as Stu and Ice pushed the rest of the gang into the room before them.

"Well, well, well." said Ice, eyeballing up Roy and Johnny and all of their
medical gear spread out in front of them. "How's our tiny tyke doing, boys?"
he said, checking the muzzle of Stu's gun, for lingering smoke. "Earned a
halo, yet?" he said, waving a plume of powder smoke away from his face
animatedly.

DeSoto carefully rose and sat back down into a chair with his burden so he could
stretch his patient out once again onto the table top for good manual ventilations.
"She's alive. Is it safe to say that she's going to stay that way?" he asked the
convicts, placing his other hand on the baby's chest to feel for rib cage rise
as he kept on bagging her with oxygen from the tank.

"Oh, yeah. We like kids. We don't like dogs. Especially trackers like yours."
said Ice.

"Cap, is he--" Johnny asked aside to Hank.

"I don't know."

Stu jerked his gun meaningfully. "Everybody just shut up and sit down!"

They sat.

Marco, Chet and Cap eased slowly onto the couch. Stoker and Gage
slid into chairs surrounding Roy and the baby.

"Nobody reaches for anything from anywhere without my say so!" the convict
thundered. "And that includes anything doctor for that pathetic lump of meat in
your arms." he glared at Roy.

The large, bald, leader thug slowly surveyed the room, spotting the two wall phones.
One by one, he methodically ripped the receivers off of their mounts, severing their
cord cables.

Chet spoke through the corner of his mouth at Hank, squeezed in next to him.
"What if we get a station call over the intercom, Cap?"

"We'll figure that out when it h--"

"He said quiet, firemen!" Ice yelled. "Or do I have to start slicing out a few
tongues here? Shouldn't be too hard to do. That baby was easy to cut out."
he said, holding up the blood stained knife that he had used outside.

Gage's face hardened into something unreadable and his widened eyes
glittered in shock and anger. His gaze connected with Cap's asking the
question and Cap replied with a small shake of his head to let both Roy
and Johnny know about the mother's death at the hands of their kidnappers.

Johnny twitched with rage beside Roy who was calmness itself as old
combat vet instincts kept him cool but aware and assessing the situation.
He was already divorced from his hands which were automatically keeping
the baby alive without his having to even think about it.

DeSoto used his non-threatening position with the baby girl to speak.
"So you've got us. Now what happens?"

"What..?" Ice blinked, caught off guard by Roy's matter of fact question.

"We eat like kings for starters, medic man." said Stu grandly, waving the gun
and his arms expansively. "You have no idea how awful prison food is, until
you've been forced to eat the slop they dish out there." he said. "Ice,
go see what these boys are gonna cook for us. Bound to be something
good in the frig over there. These are fire fighters! They burn through
a lot of calories in their line of work, don't they, while doing all those newsworthy
heroics? Gotta be some really good grub around here considering all of that."

Chet was trembling and he barely hid a sudden grunt of pain as a muscle
cramped in his side.

Hank noticed, glancing down at Kelly. He leaned away from him to lessen
pressure against his side, realizing that Chet was still hurting from his collision
with the convicts as they barged their way inside the station.

Kelly, swallowed dryly and didn't look back at Cap to hide his condition.

Marco already knew something was amiss, but fear made him act foolish.
"He needs to lie down now, Cap."

Ice overheard. "Who needs to lie down? Are we that scary?" he mocked.

Chet finally wiped his sweaty lip. "I do, sir. I was caught... by the door." he gasped.

Johnny was all analytical, from where he sat, watching Chet. "Is it your ribs?"

"Something... deeper." Kelly shook, his skin gray, his breathing gurgling oddly.

"Nobody moves!" Stu glared at them caustically.

Cap's anger finally rose. "If he gets worse..."

"It won't matter a peep." Stu said evenly, cradling his gun against his cheek,
"Remember? We're both lifers." And with that both convicts began to laugh
uproariously at their own private prison club joke.
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   A Day In The Life
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