Room #303

“Jesus, look at him. What the hell happened?”

“Yeah. He got fucked up pretty bad. Some Mexicans jumped us in the parking lot last night.”

“Christ. Look at his eyes.”

“Need 10 mils of Methadone.”

“Doctor says they broke his orbital bone. He’s blind in his right eye.”

“Is that gonna be permanent?”

“We don’t know.”

“Where'd it happen?”

“Sphenopalatine was bleeding out pretty bad. Stabilized now.”

“We were downtown, right next to Rise. There were three of 'em, three little gangbangers. One of 'em walks up and starts talking shit. Johann’s trying to calm 'em down. He’s like, ‘It’s cool, esé.’ The other guy gets all pissed off – he’s like, ‘What the fuck did you say to me?’”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. A second later he just cracks Johann with two punches to the face. The other guys are on top of me and I go to the ground. They’re kicking and punching.”

“Totally unprovoked?”

“Yeah, we think it might have been some kind of gang initiation ritual or something.”

“It’s a pretty acute floor fracture. You seen the coronal view?”

“You think they were at Rise? That’s where I see all the little gangbangers hanging out.”

“I dunno. You think that’s where they came from?”

“We should go down there tonight and see if we can find those little bitches.”

“Fucking pieces of shit. I’ll run 'em over if I see 'em.”

“Shit. I wish I was with you guys last night. I have a tire iron in my truck right now. I’d fuck that motherfucker up. If I was there, it would have been three on three. They wouldn’t have jumped you.”

“Let’s go down there tonight and see if we can find them.”

“Yeah. We can block 'em in and be like, ‘This one’s for Johann, cocksucker.’”

“Keep an eye on this subconjunctival hemorrhaging. It looks like the hyphema is getting worse.”

“Dude. I’ve never seriously contemplated murder before.”