Aeris's (Aerith's) Theme - Final Fantasy 7 (Advent Children) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxRIxovS7nQ#)<br/><div class="floatright">(http://images.mirror.co.uk/upl/article/13298887/2008/06/12/12255235.jpg)</div>Clemenza Amichevole ~ Gilead Hospital Emergency Room ~ It is a good day to die!<br/><br/>A growing, growling unease spread across herr doktor's suspicion; it was a malignant blight -- both pox and cancer -- upon the cameral nature of the firmament.  Clemenza's boundless spirit of juvenile joviality brimmed to near teeming, burbling and boiling past his ward's psychic screen.  It was obvious, now, that the sterile, stark coat before him meant well but boded equally unwell.  The robust Italian found himself admiring the man's aplomb while, at the same time, appreciating his own state of airy undress.  His exposed posterior bristled with the thought but smiled reflexively with such complementary commentary; he determined not to immediately don his apparel after the evaluation and visit himself upon the world.<br/><br/>"Ah, Mr. Am...Clem," the man garbled, "Your condition appears to be beyond our ability to effectively treat in this facility.  I am recommending that you be transferred to our advanced psychiatric ward for further observation, testing, and evaluation.  I can arrange for your transfer immediately."  He beamed such a guiltless, guileless grimace that Clem had the startlingly clown-like visage wiped from his mind by a prize-fighter's round of toothless pugilism.  Such thoughts vacated his mind's premises with blinding alacrity but the lingering aftereffect ringed his standoffish suitor with halo after halo of liberated libations.  The draught he quaffed slaked evermore and thirsted ever after.<br/><br/>"Well, I must thank you, doktor, for your commitment to the Hippocratic Oath.  The reputation of this hospital is well-deserved, indeed."  Clem paused for a moment to let his compliment gestate.  "I must be on my way, you see.  It appears I've come at the wrong time."<br/><br/>"I'm sorry?" queried the incredulous reply.<br/><br/>"Be well," he nodded and smiled.  Clemenza turned and tucked his apparel neatly into the crook of one bare arm in coagulated ball of linen before striding confidently toward the door.  He nodded once toward the nameless, faceless glob at the desk before announcing, "I was not ready."  Equal parts cryptic and solemn, a splash of hubris, and a dash of hamartia -- shaken, not stirred.<br/>