Knorge Goes to the Hospital by Taxigringo

John was led by two policemen to the nice facility that Dr. Belfiori said had nice people who would help him. The policemen where sympathetic to poor John's plight, but showed a court order and tried to assure John that it was just for observation. Everything would be fine.A curious thing happened. Anxiety mounted and a desperation set in. John, so peaceful and respectful to all authority, went through a primal change. Completely uncharacteristic of his nature, he began cussing and cursing and thrashing wildly. The rear door of the Ford Crown Victoria was kicked so hard that the upper part sprung open four inches. The police who initially felt that John was a gentle victim of psychiatric capriciousness reversed their opinion of the situation. "Knorge! Knorge! Knorge!" John screamed hysterically. Officer Morales was becoming uncomfortable. Officer Cult tried to calm things down. "Who is this Knorge you're calling for.""Ayiiieeee!" It was officer Morales' turn to scream. The cruiser was going out of control as he aimed his 10mm Glock erratically and fired several rounds. Culp knocked the gun from his hand. The Crown Vic stalled in a ditch. Morales ran from the vehicle like a man chased by the devil.Culp, momentarily bewildered, searched frantically for what caused his partner to go berserk. His pulse raced as he looked at John in the back seat. John was now quite calm and said, "What do we do now?" He had his hand over his lap as if he were cuddling an invisible dog.Police photographers and accident investigators showed up first. The radio communications aroused the curiosity of all listeners and every non-committed officer arrived shortly along with plenty of media crews trying to figure out what was causing so much commotion. It would take some time to settle on an account that would not make them a laughing stock nor liable for a lawsuit from John.Officer Morales was found on top of a van still shaking with fright. Meanwhile John was taken to Metropolitan Hospital, to the psychiatric ward of course. It was not so nice. Neither where the people.Double steel doors with wire embedded glass panes closed after entering. Three police officers held John down on a gurney as a technician locked down his arms and legs with heavy nylon straps. Shortly thereafter, Officer Morales was brought in and immediately given a sedative. It would be a long night for the Chief of Psychiatry.An orderly brought a radio phone to Dr. Mahaney. "Dr. Belfiori is on the line for you." Mahaney took the phone. "What is the situation with this Mr. John.""I think we have found a genuine code black. The patient is a veteran. Naturally the V.A. will want to take over. I recommend you stall them until I get there. Medicate the patient immediately. 300 milligrams of Thorazine, 50 milligrams of Resperdal and 15 milligrams Artane. I'm on the way.""That is a tall order. You had better be sure this is a code Black."Dr. Mahaney led Dr. Belfiori to his office that was free of surveillance objects.Belfiori wasted no time with courtesies but went right to the heart of the matter. "This man is not only able to project his fantasies on others, but also do so remotely without his actually willing it. It is a perfect case of my theory of Psychological Resonance in Mass Populations. You now have in your care a policeman that became hysterical. Question the man and I believe you will discover that the object of his hallucination is a giant cockroach two feet long." A woman was running down the hall screaming and when Mahaney looked out the door he recognized her as one of the psychiatric nurses. "I think that we have a problem." Belfiori had already surmised the situation and a fearful look fell over his face. "I told you to completely sedate the patient with Resperdal and Thorazine," he barked at Mahaney.Mahaney returned, "The man was under before you even arrived here. What now genius?"Dr. Belfiori was holding back an anxiety that threatened complete panic. His mind raced and vacillated between trying to understand the phenomenon and making a decision to avoid disaster. "Give him to the V. A.. Quickly!" Induce a chemical coma. Now!"Belfiori's anxiety was infecting Mahaney and now it was Mahaney's turn to vacillate between following Belfiori's order and the possibility that it was Belfiori who was losing his mind. At his professional level the loss incurred by making the wrong choice was substantial. Another orderly succumbed to the strange panic. There would be an investigation and consequences if he just dumped this developing maelstrom into the V. A. Hospital without....Mahaney looked aghast at Belfiori who was now standing on the desk with large beads of perspiration on his face. For the first time in his life he was able to empathize with psychotic patients.

HIGH by Taxigringo January 06, 2007

At thirty thousand feet over the desert of New Mexico John was fighting the bad guys in the cavernous bay of a C-5 cargo plane. Normally he would just beat them up and move on to his next adventure, but this time he wasn't feeling so well, and there were just too many of them. Whomp! A big fist caught John right in the bread basket and from there things went bad. The bad guys tossed him out the back door of the plane.At a rate of 9.8 meters per second squared he fell toward the town of Roswell. Things didn't look good, and to make matters worse his belly still hurt. Rolling into a ball like a pill bug his fall increased from 120 mph to 180 miles per hour. At least it was getting him out of the thin, freezing air.At 10,000 feet the temperature warmed to a comfortable 70 degrees. Discomfort or no discomfort John realized that he had better think of something quick if he was going to live to have another adventure.He noticed a house with a large swimming pool. Yes, he would go into a spread eagle position and wind surf to the pool. Sadly, his problems weren't over.At 1000 feet a flock of Canadian Geese intercepted his landing vector. As you might fear, a large goose smacked his face and knocked him unconscious. Was this the end? Things sure didn't look good.Down below a twenty-nine year old blonde by the name of Roxxi happened to be looking upwards. When she saw John hurtling like a meteor toward her newly remodeled home she gasped and quickly willed a prayer. Meanwhile John's ornithilogical collision had redirected his landing from the swimming pool to the driveway. He must have done something good in his lifetime for he crashed onto an industrial strength trampoline. High and back into the sky he bounced and over the house only to splash gently into Roxxi's swimming pool.The tepid water had brought our hero back to his senses. Slowly he rose out of the pool still holding his stomach before a much amazed Roxxi."Are you hurt?" She asked."Yes, my stomach has been bothering me all day. Do you suppose I could have a drink?"Moments later Roxxi placed placed a half full glass of Chivas Regal in his hand. "See if this will make you feel any better." It did, and John's next adventure was about to begin.

Good Stuff by Taxigringo 12/28/06

John and Dave seemed to be friends by default. Who else would be friends with them? If there was a one-ups-manship club they would have to take turns being the president.They kept things near the edge and it was a phenomena that they didn't go over it more often. The first long drop off the precipice began when they worked as team drivers for a large trucking company. Both were alcoholics, but being German, they dismissed such labels. Germans by virtue of their genes could drink without being work impaired. After all, they never drank more than a six-pack while they drove. That is to say, a six-pack each. The department of transportation, lovingly known by truckers as DOT, did not share their point of view. In fact, on a routine trip through a weigh station DOT closed the book on their trucking career.Most people would go completely into the bottle with such an unhappy turn of events. Not so with John and Dave. In fact, they actually welcomed the challenge of finding a new livelihood with such a depreciating mark on their police record. In exchange for implied future favors a local Democrat politico made possible their new employment. Working as swing shift janitors at the NASA facility in Houston suited them well. If you suspect that they continued their libations on the job, then you suspect correctly.So as not to belabor the point of the story, John and Dave took turns bringing a bottle to work which they shared after the three hours it took to complete their work. The ritual was the same. Lunch, drain the bottle, and play chess until their eight hour shift ended at midnight. On a Monday night they would once again go too close to the edge. "Ach du lieber Mensch, John. These beans are superb." Dave exclaimed.""I wish that I could take credit. That Mexican woman brought them over this morning." John said. "I think she is looking for a husband.""You need to marry her." Dave snickered.They finished eating in silence and then John asked, "What did you bring tonight?"Dave looked in disbelief and exploded, "What did I bring!? You dumbkopf! What did you bring? It's your turn to bring a bottle!"John stood up. "I brought the bottle last....Oh Scheiss! It is going to be a long night."Dave's head seemed to roll on his shoulders and then he looked upward. "I think I can salvage your incompetence." He walked over to a barrel that was obviously rocket fuel. Are you aware that this stuff is alcohol?" John hesitated. "I don't know. I'm thirsty, but I ..." "Think of it as triple strength vodka." Dave was already finding a way to pour it into the empty coffee thermos. It didn't seem bad. And as for drinking government property, they both figured: "Don't muzzle the ox that treads the grain." The bible can't be wrong. Yes, there were consequences. By three A.M. Dave woke in his bed to the ringing of the phone. Groggily he answered. It was John. Dave screamed out. "Was ist los mit Du? Do you know what time it is?" "I just want to ask you if anything strange happened to you?"Dave answered, "Only that I have a headache, but it will go away as soon as I hang up!" Then he softened. "What about you? Anything strange?"John sounded frightened. "Well, yes. About fifteen minutes ago I was in my bed and farted. And now, I'm in Cleveland."

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