Assigned to Mordor RPG

[Encaitare]

Wilhelmina peered around the door and beheld a small man in a bloodstained white coat about to jump out the window. Or perhaps he wasn't about to jump out the window, as he was standing very, very still.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Hookbill," she said as pleasantly as she could. A look of intense grief crossed the man's face.

"I can't see what's so good about it," he said, pulling an equally bloodstained handkerchief from the pocket of the coat and wiping his shining face with it. "I've just been considering jumping through that window there, as invisibility doesn't appear to be an option."

"Why in the world would you want to jump through a window?" Wilhelmina asked, joining him at the sill and looking down to see the five hundred foot drop. "Especially this one!"

"Oh, I'll do anything to get out of here! The orcs forced me to work here, and I can't stand it! I don't know a thing about Mordorian diseases," he fretted, putting a foot up on the sill.

"Now you wait one minute!" She gave him a smart whack on that foot with her walking stick; he immediately withdrew it. "Young man, you've got too much of your life ahead of you to go jumping out of windows because you're having one bad day in Mordor. What do you think Mordor is all about? You're going to have to grow a tougher skin, Doctor." She closed the window, directed him to his seat, and then sat down across from him.

"See, I'm an old woman. I'm sure there are plenty of things wrong with me, so it shouldn't be hard for you to identify at least one. Don't you worry about a thing."

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Hookbill scratched his head nervously as Wilhelmina peered at him under her dark eyebrows. He glanced back at the window and then back into the room. "You know, I only wanted to escape," he said, "until you pointed it out, I didn't realise the drop." Yet still, his eyes moved back and forth between the room and the window, as if he was weighing up both possibilities. Eventually he sighed and picked up the magnifying glass.

"Now, lets have a look at you," he said nervously standing and moving towards her, "Good Lord, is that the time, I am sorry, it looks like I'll have to go bye!" but before he could leave, Wilhelmina tripped him up and he fell on his face with a thud. She scowled at him and he rose, holding back tears.

"Look here, Doctor, if you really are one," Wilhelmina began,

"That’s just it, I don't think I am," he looked at her hair through the magnifying glass, "a bit of a bald spot here," he said,

"WHAT?" said Wilhelmina, "How dare you!"

"It's nothing to worry about." he leaped behind the desk for safety, "tell me, have you ever been attacked by some Eagles?"

"Well," mused Wilhelmina, "there was this one time-"

"I see," Hookbill wrote some things down on his paper, "let me guess where this happened." the old woman cocked her head, "Hotel California?" No reaction, "Well, never mind. Just, get yourself down to the operation theatre and I'll get someone to go and heal you." he ushered Wilhelmina out of the door and then slammed it behind him.

He dashed around the room like a chicken anticipating having its head cut off on its wedding day. The little man dived under the table once again and tried to think of something that he could do. But his mind was a blank; all he could see was being stuck in Mordor forever, tending Orcs and all kinds. Slowly he began to cry again.

The intercom - palantir buzzed at him and he immediately seized it from the desk. "What? What do you want?" he demanded before taking the large textbook down and 'reading' it.

"Doctor," came the nurse's voice, "you're needed in the operating theatre."

"Why? I'm not ill," said Hookbill trying to see if the drop out of the window was really that far. It was. He swore.

"No, sir," laughed the nurse, "you're performing the operations. We have quite a crowd today."

"Crowd!" shrieked Hookbill, and he seriously considered the window, but found the latch was stuck again. He began to cry again. "Can't I just go home?"

"Oh Doctor," said the nurse, "this is your new home!" with that, Hookbill flung himself at the window and bounced off, landing flat on his back, looking up at the nurse. "Are you coming?" she said, and before he could answer, she dragged him off down the hallway towards the operating theatre. As all The Offending Party watched the squirming little man being pulled along, many began to laugh. Hookbill squeaked as a discarded syringe nearly pierced him. He began to cry again.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"Now is the winter of our discontent!" came the cry from the operating theatre. Hookbill was cast onto the stage face first. He looked up to see an operating table on witch laid Sai, with bruises on her head. Several Orcs, dressed in green aprons and white facemasks, surrounded the table and seemed to be checking the equipment.

Hookbill pointed up towards the wall. "Look over there!" he cried, as they looked he turned and ran, but was thrown to the floor by the nurse who then dragged him up to the table. Slowly he stood and looked at the table of medical instruments. Not a single euphonium.

Sai began to move, and one of the Orcs shouted, "More anaesthetic!" Nothing happened, "I mean, 'I begeth thee, oh gentlemen of this fair land, pray let us send our patient to slumber while we cure the aliments!" with that, the Orcs all grabbed what they could and began hitting Sai on the head until she fell unconscious. Hookbill stepped in and stopped them.

"Alright," he said, "I'll operate, just stop hitting the patients! Do you hear? No more hitting!" An Orc, who was poised over Félin lowered his staff and frowned as the dwarf struggled in the bonds that tied him to an audience chair. "So what are we doing here?" asked Hookbill.

"A euphonectomy," said the nurse handing him the medical textbook, "Look it up." Hookbill 'read' the book and then staggered around. He stood next to the table and held out his hand towards one of the Orcs. It spat on his hand. "Its an Orc custom," said the nurse wiping Hookbill's hand with disinfectant.

"Right," said Hookbill adjusting his collar, "scalpel," he was handed one, "tweezers..." he got to work on the operation, hoping that his patient wouldn't die, "Five inch knife... bowl... mayonnaise... wipe... blood bucket..." he worked as Félin looked on in horror. Hookbill's hands were shaking more than someone in an electric chair.

The little man closed his eyes and reached inside Sai's small intestines. He pulled out an Onion. There was a thin 'Beeeeeeeeeep' sound that swiftly stopped when he replaced it. "Why didn't you tell me that was a heart?" said Hookbill to one of the Orcs. Hookbill 'read' the textbook again. He looked again into the mess and to his lasting surprise, found what appeared for all the world to be a miniature euphonium lodged in Sai's spleen. He swiftly removed it and closed the incision up.

Hookbill fainted.

He got up in time to see Sai being lead away with the small euphonium in a bag and bandages on her head. Hookbill sighed and looked at the operating table where Félin was situated with more bruises on his head. "I thought I told you-" began Hookbill.

"He fell down the stairs," said an Orc. But Hookbill was not convinced as the other Orcs began to laugh maliciously. Feeling quite sick, Hookbill looked at the Dwarf and began to wonder what he was supposed to do. "Come on, Doctor," said the Orc, "This isn't brain surgery."

"Yes it is!" said Hookbill, "'Talking brain syndrome.'" He began to regret making that up. He picked up what looked like a small hammer and tapped it on Félin's head. The Dwaft did not move, but he heard the strange sound of beeping from within Félin's scull.

"At the sound of the tone, the time (sponsored by Ardarist) will be 3:05 and 7 seconds... Beep." came the sound from inside.

"Oh no," said Hookbill, "Now come on, this is ridiculous! I know for a fact that Talking Brain syndrome does n-" an Orc had taken the liberty of making the first incision. "Hay!" shouted Hookbill, "that’s my job!" he couldn’t believe he was saying this. The little man grabbed some clamps and held open a hole in Félin's head where they saw a small, very small, mobile telephone, with the talking clock speaking out of it.

"At the sound of the tone, the time (sponsored by Aradarist) will be 3:05 and 58 seconds... Beep."

Swiftly, Hookbill removed it and threw it into the audience, who then applauded him. Ignoring them, Hookbill closed the wound in Félin's head up and cleaned the blood off. The nurse applied some bandages.

Hookbill fainted again.

When he awoke, once again, Wilhelmina was asleep on the table. There were no buises on her head. "What happened?" asked Hookbill.

"Dave was telling her a story," said the nurse, pointing to an old Orc in a rocking chair. "Happens to everyone. It'll take a nuclear bomb to wake her up for another hour at least." Hookbill sighed and walked over to the table, picking up the Textbook and giving it a good long 'read'. He stumbled forwards and seized a scalpel, making a slight incision and peering into the bloody mess he had just made.

"There’s a lot of rubbish in here!" cried Hookbill, "What’s that? My house? And... Whose that living in it? Gandalf the Grey? Having one of his uncloaking parties again, I shouldn’t wonder!"

"You're hallucinating, Doctor." said the nurse, slapping him across the face.

"I am?" sighed Hookbill, "then where am I?"

"Mordor."

"Ohhh f-" he swore, "right then!" he closed the wound and then, accidentally, prodded Wilhelmina in the leg with the scalpel. She awoke with such a fright that her hair grew an extra inch, making the small bald spot disappear. There was a round of applause.

Hookbill fainted.

When he awoke, the little man found that he was in the office again, with a line of impatient patients waiting for him. "Oh dear," he said, "Oh dear, oh dear!" he repeated over and over. The next 'victim' entered the room.

[Celuien]

Dr. Hookbill's first three victims...erm...patients returned to the rest of the Offending Party. Panakeia gasped at their appearances. The bruises on Sai and the Dwarf didn't look encouraging, though she approved of Wilhelmina's new hairstyle. What the little man, whose sobbing could now be heard intermittently through the door, had done to them was a mystery to her, and not one that Panakeia was particularly eager to solve.

The nurse came out and pointed at Panakeia. "The Doctor will see you now," she said.

Panakeia looked to her left, then to her right, and then behind her. Her neighbors scurried to distant corners and tried to look intent on reading the outdated magazines scattered in the room. "Who, me?" she asked.

"Yes, you. Walk this way." The nurse led Panakeia to Hookbill's office, hips swaying in a curious sashay. Panakeia had no intention of imitating her stride. The nurse opened the office door and pushed her inside. "Your next patient, Doctor."

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" went Hookbill's voice.

This little scene didn't increase Panakeia's confidence in the Doctor's skills. But she did her best to put on a brave face.

"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Hookbill. Why do you keep saying 'Oh, dear'? I can assure you, there's nothing wrong with me."

[Kath]

Sai stumbled out of the 'operating theatre' and promptly collapsed against the nearest stable object, clutching both head and stomach. As she and Fléin had entered they had been grabbed from behind, and the last thing Sai remembered was the sight of a wall coming towards her at a surprising speed.

Unfortunately, the object turned out to be the elevator doors, which opened behind her and sent her sprawling backwards into the arms of someone very soft. Sai tried to scramble to her feet, but that involved using her stomach muscles, and they weren't too keen on exerting themselves after whatever that mad doctor had done to them. As she groaned on the floor, a gloved hand reached down to help her up. Taking it she pulled, and then screamed as it came off in her hand!

"No, no! Please! Don't worry! Happens all the time, really." Came a voice from above, and Sai looked up quickly. The fast movement caused flashing lights to appear in front of her eyes, and she made a mental note not to do anything to stress her head. When her vision cleared, she saw that she was sitting in front of what looked like a man made out of straw. To make matters even stranger, he was still talking.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine, thank you. Just a little surgery. Uh, I'm sorry but, you do know you're made out of straw right? And that your hand has just come off?"

"Oh yes. I just need a little manure and that'll go right back on though so don't you worry. Just pass it back here."

Sai did as he said whilst shaking her head (gently) in the hope that this was just a hallucination or a dream. However, the pain caused by that simple motion soon had her convinced that if this was a dream it was incredibly realistic, and she should just play along.

"Well then, it's nice to meet you Mr . . .?"

"Fawkes, Guy Fawkes. I'm afraid people sent the day celebrating my death to Mordor. I was something of an anarchist you see, and this fact was bizarrely celebrated in the form of fireworks and practical jokes for years! But those dratted kids went and ruined it and now I'm here. I don't suppose you'd be interested in throwing me on a fire would you? I burn very well you know."

"I would love to Mr Fawkes but you see this is my stop. It was lovely speaking to you. Hope I imagine you again soon. Goodbye!"

And Sai fled the elevator the second the doors opened, leaving a very forlorn looking Guy Fawkes waving his hand with the one still attached to the rest of him. Stopping for a moment to give the world a chance to stop spinning as her body recovered from the burst of speed she looked around this new floor. She knew she had to find a Doctor Sigmund, but couldn't see that name on any of the doors around her.

After a fruitless few minutes spent scouring the length and depth of the corridor (she had fallen a few times as her head seemed to have disconnected itself slightly from the rest of her body and was now working with the body of something that had at least 3 extra legs) she decided to knock on the door with no name, wondering if this was the beginning of the test, being able to find the right door.

She knocked twice and heard a voice call out.

"Two knocks! Definitely the sign of an Oedipal complex! Enter!"

So she did.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Hookbill." said Panakeia, "Why do you keep saying 'Oh, dear'? I can assure you, there's nothing wrong with me." Hookbill looked up sharply and began twitching like Gollum on a bad hair day... which was every day.

"Oh, but there’s something wrong with me," mumbled Hookbill as he sat down again, "Do you have any food?" Panakeia shook her head and Hookbill put his hand over his eyes and shook his head. He seemed to have a card on the desk that said, "congratulations on your successful operations" written in big bubble letters and a picture of a cartoon doctor showing a thumbs up with a patient on an operating table doing the same, only with a hole in his chest.

"Are you alright?" asked Panakeia as the tears rolled down Hookbill's face and he looked around his person for something.

"I'm looking for my stethoscope," he said eventually. He got up and walked around the room, coming to the bookcase he climbed up and began looking around. "It must be here somewhere." he threw all the books onto the floor, "not here," he mumbled. He went over to a filing cabinet and emptied it onto the floor. "Still nothing." he went to another table on the other side of the room, there was a large packet of crisps on top of some paper. "Ah ha! Naughty stethoscope, hiding in the crisps again!" he tore open th packet and crisps went everywhere. No stethoscope.

"Doctor?" said Panakeia,

"Its no good," moaned Hookbill (although he was happy inwardly), "I cant' do the physical, I cant' find the stethoscope."

"Have you checked the desk in front of you?"

"Oh, there it is." Hookbill picked it up and put the earpieces in, "Lets have a listen then."

"What to?" Panakeia thought about escaping almost as much as Hookbill did.

"Well... erm..." he paused, "the... erm... heart?" Panakeia sighed. Hookbill placed the listening part of the stethoscope on Panakeia's chest and listened. He hummed as if in thought, although the only thing he was thinking of was the best way to get out. "Yep, both working normally." he said moving back.

"What do you mean, 'both'?" Panakeia inquired, eyeing Hookbill suspiciously.

"Oh, you only have one heart?" he looked in the textbook which was mysteriously back on the desk, "Then we'll have to get that sorted. It’s a condition called 'Severe arctic heartic' making your heart beat so loud that it seems there are two of them. Ask the nurse for some pills and you'll be right as rain by tomorrow." Hookbill grinned inwardly, 'that was good' he thought.

"I don't believe you," said Panakeia, "Are you even a doctor?"

"Apparently," mused Hookbill, "that’s what they told me. But, if there appears to be no change, then... erm... go and see someone else about it. Good bye!" Panakeia gladly left and Hookbill slumped back in his chair, looking at the mess he had made. He hummed and began creeping towards the door. 'If I take my coat off and make a run for it, perhaps no one will notice Me.' he thought, but as he began to remove the blood stained coat, the intercom buzzed at him and he fell over.

"Doctor," said the nurse, "the patient you just sent to me can't take pills."

"Why?"

"We only have Orc pills," the nurse seemed concerned, "she'll have to go for surgery, I've sent her down there now."

Hookbill cried and fell to the floor. The door opened again.

[Celuien]

Panakeia left Hookbill's office in a fit of pique. 'Severe arctic heartic?' Bah. There was no such thing. But hadn't Hookbill said something about two hearts? Suddenly, she decided to blame her conscience, the source of so many of her problems over the past few days (she thought).

This is all your fault. You're the one who had to give me a heart.

Don't be ridiculous. You know that the heart you're talking about is just a metaphor.

I wouldn't be so sure. This is Mordor after all. But that Hookbill. I know a thing or two about fakery, and he's a fake if I ever saw one.

So first you blame me, then you say he's wrong? A bit inconsistent, aren't we?

She snapped back. I'll be as inconsistent as I want.

At least there was one thing to be grateful for. Hookbill hadn't said anything about surgery. Panakeia would gladly accept the pills, although whether or not she would take them was a different matter. She walked up to the nurse.

"Can I help you?" The nurse smiled pleasantly.

"Yes. Dr. Hookbill," Panakeia nearly choked over the 'Doctor' "said something about pills for severe arctic heartic."

"I'll see what I can do." She strolled over to a closet and looked inside. "Oh dear. We only have pills for Orcs. I’m afraid you'll need surgery."

"Surgery? No. I don’t want that. Just give me the pills. I'll only take them when I'm driving. I'm an Orc then. I promise."

"That simply won't do. Off to surgery you go."

"Who said you can make that decision? You're not a doctor. For that matter, neither is Hookbill. I'm sure of it. I'm leaving." Panakeia turned to flee. But two Orcs stood behind her.

The nurse addressed the Orcs. "Take this patient to surgery, please."

As Panakeia struggled and the nurse pressed a button on the intercom to inform Hookbill about the latest development in her case, the Orcs dragged her away.

"This isn't right, you know," she protested. "What about informed consent?" The Orcs shrugged and pulled her into the operating theatre. As she entered, a voice said "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" Valde, at least, would like this place, she thought glumly as ropes secured her to a chair.