<strong>THE FAT MAN, SUPERVISING THE TREATMENT OF BILL BURPLESON BY DR. CLIFF HARRIS &amp; DR. BOBBY BOSS</strong><br/><br/>The Fat Man winced with anticipation as he watched Cliff stick the thick needle in Burpleson's paunch. As he expected it to, the needle passed through the biker's thick layer of lard cleanly, but suddenly, a nasty flow of blood started filling the bag.<br/><br/><strong>"Stop! Stop! Stop!"</strong>he snapped at the intern.<strong>"Change the angle of the needle, you've hit a blood vessel."</strong>Burpleson gurgled incoherently in protest.<br/><br/>Finally, the needle was inserted properly and the fluid in the biker's belly was draining steadily. That would stop him dropping dead from one thing; now, to keep him stable and try and do something about all his other ailments when he could handle it.<em>Do as much nothing as possible.</em><br/><br/><strong>"There's not much more we can do, and not much more we should,"</strong>the Fat Man shrugged. Unfortunately, Burpleson was complicating things.<br/><br/><strong>"Giddisgorramchewbout! Eck! Eck!"</strong>he spluttered in protest at the tube in his paunch. As he did so, waves of yellowish liquid gushed into the bag grotesquely. He was starting to turn beetroot red and coughing violently. A spray of blood and spittle hit Dr Cliff and Dr. Boss in the face as they stood over him, as the Fat Man swore and manhandled a breathing tube down Burpleson's throat and ventilated him manually and crudely in an effort to get some air into the patient's lungs. The plastic soon turned pink.<br/><br/><strong>"Well that was the most likely outcome,"</strong>Goldwasser sighed, covering Bulpleson's now blue and lifeless face with his sheet a few minutes later.<strong>"There's not much we can do against an embolism for a patient in his state. You've learned a valuable lesson, kids: not much actual curing goes on here. Cheer up, son. Remember: THE PATIENT IS THE ONE WITH THE DISEASE,"</strong>he said kindly to the doctors by the bedside. Take a lunch break, everyone, I'll page you when you're needed back here."<br/><br/>He made a quick rounds of the beds, telling interns and nurses to finish what they were doing, without paying too much attention to what they were doing. Casting a glance on Jane Doe, he decided she was more or less stable, physically at least, and he coughed loudly outside the curtains at Dr. Rogers.<strong>"Finish up and go for lunch, Rogers,"</strong>he said jovially, told Mox to meet him for drinks in an hour, and went to his office to dismiss Dr. Adams, and write out the paperwork to TURF Burpleson to pathology..<br/><br/><br/>