INT. SMALL HOSPITAL ROOM - EVENING
(FEBRIFUGE enters. He's decked out in maroon scrubs, and carries a clipboard. The PATIENT is a middle-aged man, propped up in a mass of blankets, waiting calmly.)
Hi. How are you feeling now?
Ehh, you know. Not good. Not terrible. Kind of bored.
Well, you'll be a lot more comfortable upstairs in the main part of the hospital. (he lowers his voice, and sing-songs a little) Cable Tee-Veeee... (and he's back to being all-business) So, one of the things we do, when someone is being admitted to the hospital, is make a list -
(he indicates the form on the clipboard)
- of all the personal property, the clothing and whatnot, that a person has with them when they come in. That way, when it's time to check out, we know and you know that nothing got left behind. Okay?
So I just start by looking around the room, and seeing what you have with you; here's a pair of jeans (he writes), here's a shirt (he writes), I see you're wearing eyeglasses, so those go on this blank here, I see you've got a ring on your right hand there. Cool ring, by the way.
Any on your left hand?
(The man smiles and holds up his left arm. It's been amputated just above the elbow. Probably a long long time ago.)
Okay, so I'm gonna say no to that one...