kit you are a fucking MENACE on society and NEED to be stopped:
there’s a distracted nod of the head as the medic leans back in his seat, craning his neck for a better view of the rear windows. There is still audible yelling from the two security guards who had found them ransacking the refrigerators, though the doctor and assistant are both light enough on their feet to lose just about anyone they so please. A successful escape left the guards befuddled and retreating further into the hospital in their fruitless search, giving him and Archimedes enough to load the ambulance van with their haul.
Medic’s just about backed the car all the way out the lot and onto the road when the two men burst out the back doors they’d minutes ago made their exit from, hollering at the top of their lungs with an enthusiasm for noise that could rival Scout’s.
“ Well, we would — if we had any extra money. I didn’t think to have any on me. ” It’s not that he didn’t wish he did. After all, he’d stood a forlorn minute or two, lamenting his lack of foresight, in front of a vending machine stocked with soup cans in one of the hospital’s staff rooms. He peers out the window; they’re already halfway down the road that the security guards have chased them onto. “ But if you really want it… ”
He stops the car. Shifts into reverse a moment later, pressing down on the gas, and the two men lingering still on the road, mere pinpricks in the back windows moments before, loom into proximity. Medic keeps his foot situated relentlessly on the pedal. It’s too late by the time they’ve realised that the perpetrators haven’t exactly come back to repent and to explain themselves; the quickness with which they attempt their dive to the side is far outdone by the speed of the van that careens into them. There’s an awful THUD as the collision — as well as the subsequent ( and quite literal ) man-made speed bumps that pass beneath their tires — leave the van’s occupants rocking back and forth for one moment of harsh turbulence. The blood in the back sloshes violently in its plastic bags.
“ Wait a moment. ” He takes only few moments to exit the car and rifle through the pockets of the barely-twitching men staining the road with their blood. His search produces two wallets and some coins; he carries his prize into the van, sliding them on top of the dash. “ Change of plans. McDonald’s it is, then. I think I could go for a triple-thick shake. ”
❝ i brought my wallet, i could pay for --- ❞ his meek offer gets cut off as the doctor abruptly throws the van into reverse and strikes the two security guards, though he clearly isn’t very fazed by the action --- having barely flinched besides swaying with the rough movement and doesn’t bother to twist in his seat check the back window for any damage or concern. he’s traveled with the doctor for years at this point, he knows exactly what happened. though he does turn his head to look over & check the plastic bags of gore, making sure none of them had fallen over --- which, to his small relief, none had.
he obediently waits a moment, not moving from his spot as he taps lithe fingers against the lining of the car window in silence for long seconds before the medic returns to the driver’s seat.
his eyes catch glimpse of the wallets and follows them to their place on the dash before his attention snaps back to the doctor talking, which he subtly smiles at.
❝ grazie, doctor --- ❞ he shifts in his seat, posture straightening into something more spirited ❝ filet-o-fish sounds pretty good for me. ❞
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