Dr. B. is called in to evaluate an uncooperative patient.
"A doctor cannot walk away for five seconds without being bombarded. It sounds like you've been shooting the sunset," he says in that plain voice; just a routine diagnosis. The zombie howls incomprehensible gibberish that echoes down the ward.
"Resisting. A great deal of education on the mothership that is difficult to unlearn. Trying some radical therapy."
"Ugh, this zombie appears to long for death..." says Z. looking up from the operating table, a blank, weary expression on his face.
"Easier to operate on dead things than living ones," suggests B.
"He wants to be kicked in the face..."
"Tell him not to cry. Don't let a tear fall from his eyes."
Patient is like "Wait a minute." and then proceeds to beatbox.
"He is a troublesome patient, mayhaps we would be best just dropping him off at the dump..." sighs Z.
"Madness may have a physical component. Pull his teeth, see if that helps," B. offers, smirking slightly as he adjusts his glasses.
"Well, all I've got is this hammer for the surgery..." replies Z.