Irritably, I tapped my foot against the floor. Where was she? I debated leaving the examination room to try and determine where she had been taken. But no, I didn't know my way around this hospital, and besides, her parents were waiting in the room next door. They would get anxious if they saw me exit.
Suddenly, I heard the noise of rolling wheels against linoleum and knew she was headed back to me. Thank God. Everything was okay. We could leave soon.
I looked up as the intern wheeled Josie into the room, but truth be told, I was barely paying any attention to him. I was just happy to see my Josie, safe and sound after her fall from this morning.
My heart felt like doing a flip, but it instantly fell down a notch the minute that I stared at her body and realized that something was...different. Not right. Downright odd.
Her body was covered with a thin white sheet, still and unmoving.
And her eyes were closed. She appeared to be asleep. Why would she be sleeping after a simple round of X-rays?
"Josie--?" I placed a hand up to her soft white cheek and then moved up to brush her soft brunette hair. Ah, sweet dearest--
I felt like screaming in horror as the hair slipped away with my touch...
I heard the soft evil chuckle only inches away from me. A chill ran down my spine.
I slowly turned round to face the orderly.
Who wasn't really an orderly at all, of course.
I could see that now.
It was...oh, by all the halls in montezuma...
Slowly, I turned to face him head on, as he gleefully ripped away his blue surgical mask.
It was him. My arch nemesis. The hated mustachioed one, Count Van de Bries der Gunterhausen.
"So, ve meet again...Mr. Compromises..." he sneered, his beaked nose dipping downward as his face contorted into an evil grin.
"Count..." I sputtered out. "What have you done with my wife?"
"A simple challenge, really, for an uncompromising fellow such as yourself," replied the Count, twisting at his fabled mustachio as furiously as Nomar Garrciaparra twists at his gloves. "I have discovered a way to remove the brain of your beloved Josie and replaced it with a...a...MEATBALL!"
"You what--???" I gasped, astounded by this wicked turn of events. I knew there and then, I wasn't going to take this lying down. Summoning the awesome power that came with my uncompromising lj moniker, blue electricity started to fly from my ears as I leaned forward to deliver a roundhouse punch. It was clobbering time...
"Ah, facts before fisticuffs!" cried out the Count, and I stopped in my tracks. "For you see, my good man, your wife's system can feed off that meatball for exactly one hour! No more, no less!"
"That's impossible!" I cried.
"How so?" asked the Count. "George W. Bush has managed to do it for the past two years, hasn't he? However, I will concede that his cranium requires considerably less energy than your Josie's does...however, BE that as it MAY!" His dark eyes seem to burn with an intensity of hatred I had never seen before; or at least, not since episode number 5,255 of More Fascist Funnies during that curious caper entitled, 'Who Hid My Salami?'
"Be that as it may," he repeated, leaning in closer to me. I could feel the soft spray of spittle upon my cheek. It reminded me of Tahiti during the rainy season. "I have removed your wife's brain and chopped it into exactly four pieces, which I have hidden in strategic locations throughout the hospital. Your challenge--should you choose to accept it--locate these pieces in less than an hour, or else watch your beloved die a painful! and hideous!! demise!!!"
"But that's insane!" I gasped.
"Nevertheless," he smirked, then crossed his legs. "Mmm, I have to go to ze little tyrant's room. Do you know which direction it's at?"
(TO BE CONTINUED...)