“We’ve gotta hot one, Sammohini. Wanna swing up to fix a printer with me?”
“Huh?” The junior computer repair technician stopped typing. “Oh, yeah, sure!”
Hank held a large circular toner cartridge like it was a bazooka.
“Let’s blast,” he pretended to shoot the toner-bazooka, dramatically recoiling, “this one outta the water!”
She chuckled, looked at her screens momentarily, re-read the email she was typing, clicked “Send,” locked her computer, then ran to catch up.
“We’re headed to the ER.”
They walked through the brightly lit hallways of Eville Medical at a faster than normal pace. “Printer3 is outta black toner. Here.” Hank handed the bagged cartridge to Sammohini while readjusting the grip on his clipboard.
“I’ll fill out the paperwork.”
“Oh, neat! That’s the- yeah! A Qit high-priority ticket. I’ve handled one of these before when I was working on the help desk and you guys were at a-” “-Rockstar!” “Yo!” “-meeting. Oh- Hi!…” The interrupting doctor kept on walking.
“He does that. Don’t worry.”
Hank smiled and returned to looking down the hall. “Hurry! Let’s see if we can catch this!” Hank ran toward the open elevator. “Can we tag along?!” A patient and nurse were waiting inside. “Sure!” The nurse held the door with his arm.
“Phew! Thanks, Rick.” The doors closed. “Sick patient?” They looked at Sammohini. “Yeah, ER printer.” She smiled at the patient, a young boy in a leg cast and a big, blue wheelchair. “Hi! I’m Sammohini, and this is Hank!”
The boy turned away.
“Mikey, don’t be rude. Say hello.” He folded his arms. “We’ll have to let your parents know about your rude behavior, mister.” Mikey subtly recoiled before Sammohini waved her open arm. “Oh! Don’t worry! He’s probably just shy!”
The elevator opened.
“OK, Michael… our stop. Sorry about that, guys.” Hank smiled. “No worries. Later.” Rick wheeled the young patient out of the elevator and the door closed. “Patients are like that. They don’t wanna be here, after all.”
The elevator went up.
“Oh. Hadn’t thought about that…” The elevator door opened. “No worries. Let’s go help out this sick patient!” Before Sammohini could register, Hank had already stepped through the door and nearly disappeared.
Sammohini barely caught up.
Through winding corridors, they arrived at a nurse’s station at a midpoint between most of the patient rooms where they came across desks, computers, and two nurses working.
Both looked over. “Oh, our heroes!” “Hey, Rockstar!” Hank presented the clipboard. “Superstar, here, is gonna be the one to save the day, though. I’m just here to fill out the necessary paperwork. Who’ll sign?”
The more tired nurse took the clipboard.
Sammohini stepped over toward the printer. She looked over where the toner should go, fumbled around, and then found the toner door. She opened it, replaced the old toner with the new, shut it, and did a test print.
The printer whirred and buzzed.
“Good printer… please work…”
It seemed particularly grumpy.
“Come on, Printer3…”
And printed successfully.
|Sources: My professional experiences.|
|Inspirations: The title and printer events were inspired by routine work that I’ve done hundreds of times before, but let’s focus on that middle part for a minute. I wrote a deviantArt journal entry outlining more of the details. I sussed out the seemingly random point to something more chilling. Since Mikey’s original name was Donny, there’s a TMNT inspiration here, too.|
|Related: Somewhere in the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.”|
|Photo: The trees I observed while writing the rough draft.|
|Written On: August 9th [1 hour], 10th [30 minutes]
|Last Edited: August 12th [30 minutes]|