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schneefusslanti · 7 years ago

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A Tale of Two Doctors

Another episode in the world of @fandomfishie‘s Eurovision Part of Town, which I had a lot of fun co-writing this with @emmadeforests over the past few months. As with other EPOT works, same rules follow: a) what happens on Tumblr stays on Tumblr, b) don’t show the artists, and c) the characters in the work do not reflect the artists in real life.

Iveta likes to think she manages just fine. Rather, that she and Sandhja manage just fine. The hospital works nicely with the two of them (and, of course, it worked nicely with Gianluca and Sandhja when Iveta was called into court). The last thing she wants - or needs - is an orthopedic specialist. And definitely the last thing she wants is an orthopedic specialist who’s friends with Samra.

Dihaj was one of the earlier arrivals into town this season, and it was common knowledge that she had been bunking with Samra until she found a real job. Iveta had hoped and hoped that Dihaj wouldn’t be assigned anywhere near her - she certainly didn’t want anyone else bugging her about the stupid property dispute, it was HERS, dammit - but sadly here she was, glaring at the piece of paper notifying her about Dihaj’s new position.

At least they’d be on opposite ends of the hospital. Nothing would happen. Right?

After weeks of paperwork and hanging around Samra’s Miracles and Curiosities store, Dihaj’s position had finally transferred over from the Milli Secim Turu Part of Town to the Eurovision Part of Town. She’d heard all about the lab from Samra, about how Specialty Pharmacy drugs were allegedly stashed next to the a pile of lavash in the same closet (Iveta denied this), about how weird chemicals came out of the fume hood vent. But Iveta was still a doctor, and anyone who went through the hell of med school automatically earned at least some respect, property dispute or no property dispute.

As she moved into her office she noticed the of paperwork on her desk. Most of it was pretty normal: welcome letter, staff directory, other contacts in the EPOT…and an official-looking letter from the court.

To: Iveta Mukuchyan, Samra Rahimli From: District Court of the Eurovision Part of Town CC: Diana Hajiyeva Subject: Laboratory Property Dispute

The District Court of the Eurovision Part of Town will no longer settle future disputes relating to the possession of the laboratory bunker. All future conflict relating to must be settled out of court; our staff will disregard any cases between involved parties.

Iveta had received the same printout on her desk that morning. She doesn’t understand what the court is trying to say - did Ela think that Dihaj is going to start something? Or is this some kind of preventative measure, to pressure them away from coming into direct conflict? Either way, Iveta doesn’t want to bring the new employee into this. It would just end badly for Iveta - does she want to make any more enemies in this town? No.

Despite the tension everything seemed pretty normal after the first day. Iveta would make rounds on her side of the hospital, while Dihaj made rounds on her side. The two would occasionally meet up by the coffee maker, though the most they would say was “hello,” “how are you”, and “fine, thank you.” Maybe the occasional “Excuse me” or “Pass me a spoon” but nothing else. That is, until Dihaj’s phone rang one day. And of course it had to be about the bunker.

“Look, I don’t know what it is, but whatever it is it smells weird and I don’t think the lucky bamboo plants are lucky anymore,” complained Samra over the phone. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not something from Nina’s place.”

Armed with a coffee spoon and an ice pack in her coat pocket, Dihaj made sure to hide all the coffee stirrers in her office before Iveta arrived. She looked around and put the ice pack back in her pocket, leaving the spoon on the counter next to the coffee maker. A few minutes later Iveta walked towards the counter, coffee mug in hand. Dihaj watched from outside the break room, seeing Iveta pour coffee, add sugar, add cream. She smiled quietly as Iveta picked up the spoon to stir her drink and walked back to her office, knowing that her fellow colleague had picked up a gallium spoon. With a melting point of 30 degrees C, that spoon would settle as a layer of liquid metal at the bottom of Iveta’s coffee in about five seconds.

Iveta looked down at her coffee. Blinked. Looked again.

There was no spoon.

She could have sworn…

But it wasn’t until two minutes later, when Iveta tripped and her coffee sloshed out of her mug, that she noticed. The spoon… was now a puddle of melty metal sludge at the bottom of her cup.

Only one person could have done this.

Dihaj.

Well, naturally, she had to retaliate. So she made stops at Gabriela’s craft store and Slavko’s costume shop on her way home. Mardi Gras beads, feather boas, plastic flowers, even a horse head (she really did not want to know why Slavko had that). And she came into work an hour and a half early the next day. Couldn’t hurt to have a cushion of extra time, right?

While Iveta was still in the break room realizing her coffee wasn’t drinkable, Dihaj went back to setting up her office on the other side of the hospital. All the technical stuff was done; the only thing left were the skeleton models she’d waited ages for to ship from her old hospital. One was used for patient education in the ortho department; another sometimes wore her backup white coat and was great for hanging stethoscopes on. The others, when not stashed in the closet,made her office Halloween every day. This time she positioned one on a step ladder and another next to the computer. Except the next day she couldn’t believe what happened…

Education Skeleton looked okay; thank goodness nothing happened to it. Step Ladder Skeleton appeared to be fine as well; it was still in its original position, except a horse head now sat on top of its shoulders. Computer Skeleton was still next to a computer, except it wasn’t next to Dihaj’s office desktop. Instead it was tied to Sandhja’s rolling laptop stand in the hallway with a feather boa, wire flowers tangled in and out of its ribcage. White Coat Skeleton looked all right sitting on a box in the corner, but given that the coat was a size or two too large and dragged at its feet, Dihaj was sure Iveta had prepared a surprise.

For starters, Iveta had unscrewed the legs. Okay, legs falling off wasn’t too bad; it happened all the time with Dihaj moving the skeletons every few days. But really? She couldn’t believe Iveta would go all the way to find taraz from the Depi Evratasil Part of Town that managed to fit. And the box? Dihaj rolled her eyes as she saw the disgusting combination of banana on tomato sauce before finally reading the note on the inside of the box.

You might want to check out Horse Head. Heard the school needed to borrow Yorick for the day to play Hamlet.

Iveta smirked as Dihaj came storming out of her office.

“You… you… what did you do to my skeletons??” The other doctor exploded.

Iveta remained calm and continued moving her stethoscope over Salvador’s chest. “As you can see, Diana, I am with a patient. Can we continue this conversation later?” She gave Dihaj a saccharine smile and proceeded to pay her no more attention.

Dihaj returned to the corner to check under the horse head, cursing herself for ordering a skeleton with a detachable skull. Of course it was gone…

Once she’d made a few phone calls to the school confirming the situation and then to Carola for a follow-up exam after getting blown into town again, she headed to Gabriela’s craft store for some glitter. Turned out to be more of a hassle than she expected, because someone at the pharmacy decided on making fake medication a while ago. Or maybe it wasn’t, because it meant she didn’t have to get any evidence on her shirt. Once that was done she shoved the glitter into an envelope with a few pizza coupons and thank you note for the very interesting banana pizza, double sealed it, and dropped it in the hospital mailbox. Plan and simple.

Hmm. Mail. Not a lot of that in the Eurovision Part Of Town, where most communication is either in-person or via Twitter. But maybe, Iveta thinks, it could be from one of her supervisees in the Depi Evratesil Part Of Town. She always thought Hasmik seemed the type to send on-paper notes.

She opens it and is met with a blast of red, blue, and green glitter. Iveta blows some out of her mouth, wipes her eyes, and reads the note. Banana pizza. That was a nice touch on her part, she thinks. She stormed out of the hospital, irate (and prompting several reactions from a couple of patients, not to mention the shock she incurred in poor Ilinca at the reference desk. Poor girl spilled her entire coffee and had to get another one.), and headed to Svala’s office supplies store. This prank would be her most time-consuming yet. She prayed that Svala had Post-Its in the right colors.

Dihaj walked into the hospital, smile disappearing once she smelled the scent of pentyl butyrate in the orthopedics department. Cherries? No. Apricots. Maybe it would have been nice had whoever sprayed it not used multiple cans, especially not while concentrated in in her office, which was…now decked from ceiling to floor in red, blue, and orange Post-its. Including her desktop. Well at least Yorick was back from the school? But even the skull was covered in red, blue, and orange. Without even checking the ground for traces of glitter, she figured the only person who would do this was her fellow colleague.

The apricot air freshener was way overpowering. There was no way she could stay inside without a gas mask. So much for the town’s recently acquired motto of Love Love Peace Peace; this prank war had already crossed the line of “do no harm” into the danger zone. Looks like it was time for the carpet-based treatment to Wipe. Out. Everything.

With the town directory in one hand and her phone in the other, she set up camp in an empty patient room, ready to set up one of the hardest pranks in the book. Her preceptor had warned her about other doctors doing this but she’d only seen it once on TV, and it…didn’t work very well that time.

Step one: Get a willing patient Given that Dihaj was still new to the Eurovision Part of Town she wasn’t taking any risks on figuring out who was on Samra’s side or Iveta’s side, so she searched the directory for people from the MST Part of Town. Elnur? Nah, the strip club was too unpredictable. Or Arash? He hung out in the Melodifestivalen Part of Town a lot more than the EPOT. Oh, wait…Ell’s listed number was the one that got hacked and/or disconnected and changed into the prank call line a while ago before he got a new phone. Of course Samra wasn’t going to do it, since she was still holding up the store and checking for weird stuff coming from the lab. Eventually she decided on Dilara at the fire department. Hopefully the Baltic Boys weren’t shooting off too many fireworks at the casino in the next week…

Step two: Have said patient appear dead Phone call with Dilara: check. Dilara agreeing to participate: check. Maybe some fake paperwork might be needed but that shouldn’t take more than five minutes. The issue was that Dilara was clearly alive, and what Dihaj needed was someone looking a bit more dead. Thank goodness for stage makeup and cosplay tutorials on YouTube, but that wasn’t going to be enough. Her patient would have to appear like she was hooked up to the EKG, but disconnected just enough to read a flat line. And hopefully her colleague wouldn’t mess up anything.

Step three: Get fellow colleague to take the “dead” patient to the morgue Ahh yes. The morgue. Also known as the one room in the hospital basement with extra air conditioning that’s technically used as an extra storage room. Due to some weird rule from outside the EPOT the hospital was required to have a morgue despite no one dying in town. There was even paperwork on the wall claiming that the place was run by a guy named Knez, who was as present in town as Monika Kuszynska’s nonexistent neighbor. But now with someone “dying", the place would actually have to be used as intended. With all the extra supplies she might even be able to pull off something even more epic than what her preceptor had mentioned.

Once the air in her office had cleared out, she opened a fresh box of chalk and started planning. Something epic, a work or art. Like that one OK Go video that YouTube had suggested. What about ending with a bucket of surgical lube falling on Iveta? But how would it work? Dihaj took another look at the supplies in the morgue: EKG wires, extension cords, oxygen tanks, glue, saline bags, coffee (expired), cleaning supplies (also expired, why was it still here anyway?), flypaper? Nice. Maybe a few more supplies borrowed from Samra? And how to start it? Maybe a remote control signal or something, which Dilara could hide under the covers. A few days of planning, check. Supplies safely hidden downstairs? Check. And now to set up this mess.

If all went as planned, Iveta would roll Dilara’s bed downstairs and park it in the right location. Once in the spot Dilara would hit her remote control and turn on the air on full blast which would hopefully (fingers crossed!) get the ball rolling to hit the rope, switch on the lighter to ignite a candle, slowly burning the rope holding up the bucket of lube hanging above Iveta, with maybe a few extra tricks just for the heck of it. Just to guarantee everything worked out, she lined the area with some flypaper just to make sure her colleague would stay in the right place and attached a camera in the corner.

And then the day had come. .

Iveta knew the morgue as just… one of those empty, abandoned places in the Eurovision Part Of Town. This Knez guy, if he had ever even existed, had been before her time, so she’d never seen the building in use.

As far as this prank war with Dihaj had gotten, Iveta didn’t think she would trivialize something as a patient dying. So when Dilara was rushed in, covered in soot and hooked up to a dead EKG, Iveta took it seriously, and accepted the responsibility of taking Dilara’s body to the morgue.

In retrospect, something in Iveta knew that something was probably up. Something made her check the body.

Warm.

Well, she had been burned, but…

Hmm.

Despite all the preparation and research for this prank, for every step involved there were at least two ways for it to go wrong. What if Iveta decided not to bring Dilara downstairs? Or if the remote control didn’t work? Or even worse, what if the entire setup fell apart before Iveta and Dilara made it downstairs? To Dihaj’s relief, she saw Iveta at the other end of the hallway, pushing a bed into the elevator. She ran down the stairs to the basement, half-concerned that Dilara had fallen asleep under the sheets but half-relieved that Iveta wouldn’t see her not-actually-dead patient trying not to blink.

Iveta tread more carefully. She walked into the morgue and it suddenly became freezing. Well, it was obviously a morgue, but… that wouldn’t do. She quickly walked over to the thermostat and turned it back up again. Much better. She disconnected the EKG - no need for it now, anyways - and went into the next room to get some supplies.

Everything appeared fine until she hears something crash.

Initially Dihaj smiled as she watched from outside the morgue. With Iveta in the other room, Dilara raised a thumbs up, confirming that the initial stage of the rig worked, freeing up the next step. They watched as the weights swing down the line to click open the lighter, and the second line to–wait a second.

Starting the moment the line hit the flame, there was a 30-second window to prevent the bucket from falling.

Dihaj ran towards the bed, pushing Dilara out of the way making sure her patient was safe from all the damage and then running back to scan for anything else. Oh wait…

The line had broken.

She might have been wearing slip-proof shoes, but they wouldn’t have been any use against the dull thud as the bucket hit her head.

“What is going on-”

Iveta ran back into the room to see a perfectly alive Dilara and a knocked-out Dihaj laying in a slowly-growing puddle of surgical lube. She really should have known… it was just too convenient. She took a step forward but tripped on the pottery shards and cut her arm open. Iveta glared at Dihaj, at Dilara, at the mess, all the while cursing Samra under her breath.

In the end, Dilara’s the one who called the hospital - rather pointless, as the two doctors were the ones incapacitated.

“And this,” commented Judge Ela dryly as she pressed stop on Dihaj’s recording of the morgue prank, “is why we’re not taking any more cases regarding the lab property dispute. I’m not even going to do anything else; I’m pretty sure this should be enough for you two.”

Iveta and Dihaj glared at each other from their hospital beds. At Ela’s request, Sandhja had put the two doctors (for now, patients) in the same room for treatment and called in Gianluca for the day.

When they returned to their offices the day after, they both noticed the note from the court sitting on their desks:

To: Iveta Mukuchyan, Diana Hajiyeva From: District Court of the Eurovision Part of Town CC: Samra Rahimli Subject: Laboratory Property Dispute

As previously noted the District Court of the Eurovision Part of Town (EPOT) will no longer settle future disputes relating possession of the laboratory bunker. Due to recent events related to the dispute in Municipal Hospital, this is a reminder that the ongoing dispute has gone too far. It is also noted that due to said events the morgue still needs cleaning up. Gloves and slip-proof shoes are highly recommended.

#the eurovision part of town #eurovision rpf #this was a lot of fun #the lab property dispute moves to the hospital #oh wow that's a lot of references to the rest of the epot

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