[LOBO]"Doctor I. M. Nyarlathotep?" I wheeze weakly into the phone.
"LOBO? How did you get this number?"
"I peeked over Nurse Garrison's shoulder when she was filling out my chart."
The doctor sighed. Setting down his golf clubs, he eased back into the driver's seat of the cart. "She told me you have a sinus infection.”
"Then why do I feel like my brains have expanded, ripped through my skull and seeped out while a gnarly-toed bigfoot splashed around on them?"
"Because you have a sinus infection."
"I blame the boy," I says flatly.
"It's entirely possible. You did mention he was sick last week. You could have picked up what he had."
"Well this was most ill-conceived. He is by far the most expendable of us. I mean he can't get a job or drive a car ... and those tiny soft hands are poorly-suited for building even the most woefully small of colossal effigies of myself!"
The sky darkened suddenly, and the doctor looked up to see black clouds moving in. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the warm smell of rain filled the atmosphere.
“What the hell was that?" I says into the phone. "Where are you?”
“It’s a storm coming in,” replied the doctor. “I’m at the 17th hole of the Cancun Open.”
“What’s your handicap?”
"At the moment, you are. Get some Tylenol," suggested the doctor.
"I can't. I'm still stuck in the elevator."
"I thought you were rescued."
"Well, the elevator started working again. But just as I called the police, the CIA, the FBI, FEMA and Interpol to tell them everything was cool, Lord Likely got on and beat the control panel into slag with his cane.”
“They don’t make these confounded contraptions like they used to,” explained Likely. “And who is this Mandy person?”
“LOBO, I can’t help you from here. Would you please just call the fire department back?”
“They won’t answer,” I says sulkily.
“Tell this medical practitioner to fear not,” says Likely. “I’ve had Botter lay down at the bottom of the shaft and cushion our descent.”
“Will that work?” I ask Likely.
“I don’t know,” says Likely. “That’s why you have to go first. Botter is chocked full of spiky bones and so forth; he will need to be tenderized thoroughly before my Lordliness can attempt such a feat.”
“I’m ready Milord!” cries Botter from far below.
“Doc,” I says into the phone. “What if I jump, and then right before I smack into the ground, I swerve to avoid it?”
Doctor Nyarlathotep rolled his eyes just as the heavy rain began to fall. “It’s worth a try. But wouldn’t you just veer of into the side of the concrete elevator shaft?”
“Yeah. You’re right.” Resigned, I yell down, “Okay Botter, are you ready?”
“Yes Sir.”
To Likely, “And you’re sure he won’t move?”
“Dare he move a muscle, I shall beat him severely about the legs,” says Likely with command.
I take a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes.”
After a brief moment, I step into oblivion.
“Oh wait sir!” cries Botter. “I forgot your Tylenol in the car!”
