Surprise 122

"What on earth are you doing, man?" the naked gentleman sitting up in the hospital trolley asks, speaking like a toff.

"Blimey, mate, you surprised me good'n'proper!"

The green-smocked orderly looks startled, one hand on his heart, the other hand he has just snatched from the breast of the naked woman laid under a sheet on another trolley. His tunic is embroidered with "Ace Janitor Services" on the left breast and around his neck is an identity card with his photograph on it looking startled.

He is certainly startled now.

"I was told you was brown bread! The Doc bleedin' told me to wheel you down here, when me shift started at five-thirty," the wall clock behind him said 5.48, "on'y they ain't got round to doin' your autopsy yet."

"Ah," the gentleman nods, "Why'd the Doctor think I was 'brown bread'?"

"Well, obviously because of the explosion. The damage, no heartbeat or pulse, it's all in your chart. The autopsy butcher is up to 'is armpits puttin' that turban-headed terrorist bomber back together."

"I remember, the ram raid on the Church Bookstore next to the Church and Theatre. Quite a diverting commotion I thought at the time, then everything went black, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, I saw it on the news. CCTV shows the car smashin' the plate glass window, the theatre crowd was standin' there gawpin', an' then this here girl was standin' by the alleyway. Then 'poof!', up in flames, smoke, books, glass an' reeligous para-far-whatnot all over the bloody show. An' then the bleedin' CCTV camera died."

"Oh, I see," the gentleman nodded sagely.

"One witness says you came outta nowhere to jump in front of the lady just as the explosion went off. You're considered a bloody 'ero, mate! The pundits on the telly said you was trying to save 'er, but that wus before the Doc marked you both DOA and the news programme announced there'd be some sort of memorial service for you. Shame, not a bleedin' scratch on the young lady, 'ceptin' fer those two tiny pin'oles wot's in 'er throat."

"Pity, shame for even such tiny blemishes to mar a beautiful girl."

"Yeah, a bleedin' peach she is, mister. Look, I weren't doin' nuffink funny with her like, jus' checkin' her for distinguishin' marks, tattoos, an' the like."

"Of course you were, dear boy. Now, do you happen to know where my clothes are kept?"

"Costume, you means! Blimey, it ain't even Hallowe'en 'til nex' month."

"My er ... costume?"

"Bagged up, it is, underneath the er, your trolley."

"Thanks."

"You wanna get that bleedin' 'ole in your chest seen to pronto, though mate," the pointed, "one o' them church shop crucifixes ... went right through you!"

"Silver, was it?"

"Nah, silver gilt, total rubbish."

"And that's gone ... where?"

"Alright, it's a fair cop, mister, it's in me motor parked right out front. I though it was worth summink, an' that no-one'd miss it."

"A harmless trinket, I assure you. No need to concern yourself. Where does that emergency exit lead to?"

"Car park, I'm parked just outside, you know, handy like."

"And this place is the hospital mortuary?"

"Almost, it's actually nex' door, stuffed wiv all the stiffs from the terrorist blast."

Then the naked gentleman with the holey chest surprises him, sinking elongated teeth into his neck, the janitor's short scream muffled as his voice box fills with blood before being sucked away. Soon he is dry, dropped lifeless to the floor, waking up the dead girl, who sits up.

"Good morning, my dear," the gentleman smiles, his chest healing up nicely thanks to the fresh blood sucked into his system.

"Morning, Scary Stranger Who Attacked Me By The Alleyway. How very surprising!"

"Why?"

"You and me naked, a dead man, a hole in your chest that I can see the wall through, though healing up rapidly, and yet, no heebee-jeebies on my part. In fact, no emotions at all."

"That's perfectly natural, my dear," the gentleman says. "Now, sunrise Sunday 13 September is 6.32, it's now 5.53, my dear. So, five minutes to get dressed, then we'll nip out this door into Matey here's jalopy and, twenty minutes tops, 'mi casa es su casa'."

"Delightful, my good man."

"Right-o, into the night we go!"

They push the emergency door outward and rush into the "night", but the fact that it was bright and sunny at 5.59 in the afternoon was one really big unexpected surprise to them both.