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Cammy seems tense–you’d probably be a little testy too if you’d been stabbed! So Cammy, you begin as you fish some gauze from the medkit, what’s your story anyways?
“<span class="mu-i">Urk…</span>” She groans, “<span class="mu-i">Once upon a time I went to grab some snacks and got ATTACKED. THE END.</span>”
You meant in <span class="mu-i">general</span>, you mutter as you put the gauze in place. Could probably stick it there with some medical tape…
“<span class="mu-i">Oh… right…</span>” Hisses the guard, “<span class="mu-i">You’re the Pizza Guy… the one who got HAMMERED by Ollie…</span>”
Yep, you sigh as you massage your surprisingly pain-free neck, that’s you…
“<span class="mu-i">Hahaha! Oh shiiiiiiit!</span>” The girl laughs before doubling over in <span class="mu-i">TOTALLY-JUSTIFIED PAIN</span>, “<span class="mu-i">Ooof… worth it… I uh…</span>” She continues as you continue working on her wound, “<span class="mu-i">I do THEATER TECH… y’know, lights and shit…</span>”
Right, you nod, the ones who put the whole stage together…
“<span class="mu-i">Yep… mom and dad have always been handy, so…</span>” She pauses to cough a gob of bloody spit onto the floor, “<span class="mu-i">Here we are…</span>”
What about the <span class="mu-s">DISCIPLINARY COMMITTEE</span> then, you ask as you offer her the <span class="mu-s">PAINKILLER BOTTLE</span> which she snatches from you like a rabid BEAST!
“<span class="mu-i">Eh, I thought it’d be fun to boss people around…</span>” She shrugs, guzzling half the pill bottle before she gets angry again! “<span class="mu-i"> They paired me up with Hank because he knew how to do some computer shit... always thought he was a fucking dweeb, but he’s cool I guess. Didn’t think he’d get my ass STABBED…</span>”
Leaning back against the busted shelf, the guard raises her eyebrow your way as she tosses the pills back at you. “<span class="mu-i">Thanks for the save, Pizza Guy.</span>”
No problem, you smile, but she can probably guess what you’re gonna ask next, right?
She groans. “No, dumbass, I <span class="mu-i">SHAVED</span> my head, okay? I ain’t <span class="mu-i">bald</span>...”
You suspected as much, you reply with a tired frown, but you were talking about that <span class="mu-s">WOUND</span> you just patched up!
“Oh, <span class="mu-i">THAT</span>...” Cammy grunts as strength slowly returns to her gruff voice, “Yea, fucker got me pretty good, didn’t he?”
And which fucker might that be, you ask, leaning closer with renewed interest! And where did it happen? The girl gives you a long stare from behind her mirror shades.
“... promise you won’t judge?”
You <span class="mu-i">promise</span>, you nod, stealthily crossing your fingers behind your back! Still feeling the effects of the wound, Cammy lets out a long, slightly-less-ragged breath.
“... pretty sure it was a <span class="mu-s">CHUPACABRA.</span>”
<span class="mu-i">WHAAAAT!?</span>
Your outburst is cut short by a weak, but still painful punch to your arm! OW!
“You said you wouldn’t judge, <span class="mu-i">DICK!</span>”
>CONTD.
