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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Comedy · #1037202
A friend and I were bored. She really liked the Lost TV series, so we took turns to write.
*The plane crashes.*

Kellie is standing next to one part of burning plane on the beach, staring avidly at her hand. Trav just spotted some guy on the ground with his leg torn off.
Trav runs over to the one legged man. "No body panic! I have a band aid!"
"Are you a doctor?"
"Uh. Yea! Y not. Now tell me where does it hurt?"
"Erm." Silence.
The one-legged dude dies from blood loss and someone screams in the distance.
"There was nothing I could do." Trav stands, hands on hips in a slightly superman pose. "Where there is trouble, there is Trav!"
Trav runs off in the direction of the scream and we hear his voice fade away
as he yells "I have band aids!"
Cut to Roho. He’s picking up bits of wreckage that aren't flaming and
pocketing them. A scrap of metal, an empty soda can, some gum.

Roho lifts a particularly twisted piece metal to find an ash smeared Kellie huddled over a headless corpse. With one hand holding a small, white pill bottle before her blood-shot eyes, and searching the dead person’s pockets with her other.
Roho stares at Kellie.
Kellie stares at Roho.
Roho stares at Kellie some more.
“What?” Kellie demands, “She was dead when I got here… yes… dead when I got here.” She twists the lid off the bottle and throws its contents into her mouth.
Roho raises an eyebrow. “You do know that that is Viagra, right?”
Kellie stops chewing for a moment… and then shrugs and swallows. “Meh!”
A dashingly handsome Trav runs over to the scene, elbowing Roho out of his way and subsequently into a bloody pile of severed limbs. “Make room for the doctor!!!” He yells at the top of his lungs. “I can save this man!”
He whips a band aid from his pocket, rips off the adhesive covers and delicately places it on the ragged stump that remains of the dead woman’s neck. “Ahhh… all better.” He nods, satisfied.
Roho drags himself out of the gore and exclaims, “wtf?! It’s a woman…” he glances at the individual under discussion, “well, was!”
Trav stares blankly at Roho for a few moments, “a transgender operation, you say?”
“No, I meant she’s dead… oh just forget it.” Roho picks a finger out of his hair.
Trav turns suddenly back to the dead woman. “We must move the patient to a safer place, the threat of infection is bad.” He grabs the corpse by one heel and starts dragging it up the beach towards the palm trees.
Roho looks over at where Kells sits; calmly cramming aspirin capsules into her nostrils and shakes his head. “Why does this always happen to me?!”

Trav sat the corpse up against a tree trunk and arranged its arms into a crossed position in its lap. “Right, we’ll need a blanket, food, and some water for you.” Trav glances around at the wreckage on the beach before him and then looks down at his ‘patient.’
“I think I’ll call you George.”
He pulled at the band-aid on Georges…stump. “Yes, I think its healing nicely, the sea air will do it the world of good!”

That's all we wrote. I moved to China not long after we started this, and I had to many distractions to get back to it.
© Copyright 2005 Lerineris (lerineris at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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