Meeting the Jokers

Part 20- Hospital

Me, Murr and several producers squashed into one of the cars and raced to the closest hospital where Q would stay.

"This isn't even an Impractical Jokers first," Casey shook his head, smiling a little.

"That doesn't make this show sound too safe," I replied.

We drove in silence until, 30 minutes later, we arrived.

The hospital was huge- with fluorescent lights hanging and huge windows up above.

We got to the reception, "we're looking for Brian Quinn. He's just been rushed in." That was Murr.

She typed quickly on our desk. "Yes, we have him."

"Great!" We all took a sigh of relief, "What room?" Murr said.

"Room 478."

We practically ran to the elevator and scrambled to the nearest rooms.

"Here's 606!" Casey yelled. We were closer.

Me, Casey, Murr and one producer had made it this far. We raced down the corridor until we were at 511.

"Left or right?" Casey said.

Murr sprinted left so we followed suite. We were closer. It's 480!

And as we approached Q's Room, Sal hesitantly appeared.

"Woah," Murr said, taken aback, "What's up?"

"He hasn't talked to me ever since we got in the ambulance," he whispered, "I feel like this is all my fault."

"It's not, dude," Murr said.

"It's definitely not," I added.

Sal have me a half hearted smile and beckoned us into the room.

Closest to Q was a spare seat, then Joe texting from his phone.

"Gotta text Bessy," He signalled to his phone.

Q was staring up to the ceiling- not even noticing our arrival. He had wires and tubes all around his body, with his heart monitored with slow but steady beeps.

"How is everything else?" I asked Sal, trying to comfort him. He was the only one bothered.

"It's fine," he said, "the doctors just said we triggered something. And he could be here for a few weeks."

"Weeks?" The producer repeated, scowling at the unconscious Q.

"Yeah, just to make sure he's ok."

"Hey Olivia?" Sal approached me, "can you come with me to the cafeteria?"

"Sure," I grab my bag and follow Sal who wanders sadly down the corridor.

"What's up?" I asked.

"It's..." He began, "I just feel like... like it's all my fault."

"No way," I protest, dodging nurses and stand between Sal and ill patients (i didn't wanna upset him even more (and my hand sanitiser had ran out so Sal had no cleanser)).

"No, but it is," He sways a little, sharply turning right towards a huge fluorescent green light. Then stops. "I'm the one that suggested the rollercoaster. Cuz he doesn't like them."

"It's still not your fault," I read the hospital map, still concentrating on our conversation. "Q would never blame you for this, so don't worry."

He rocked back on the balls of his feet, "you're right."

We opened the glass doors into the wide cafeteria. With a wide array of healthy foods and drinks. Sal headed straight for the water.

"You want one?" He asked. I shook my head.

He paid slowly and we made our way back through the maze.

"Can we take a quick detour?" Sal asked, then pleaded with his puppy dog eyes as I tried to carry on.

I shrugged and followed him- back past the cafeteria and to the reception.

You wanna know what we went down for?

Guess.

Hand sanitiser.