tikific | Terminology (Mythklok Interstitial)

Title: Terminology (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Medical opinions are shared.
Warnings: OC, AU, slash, smokin'
Notes: I'm doing a vascular surgery project now, so you're gonna see stuff like this

I just started a new job this week, so I'm crazy mad busy liek whoa. Therefore, next proper chapter will have to wait 'til this weekend.

Terminology

"The patient has been experiencing intermittent claudication," Ganesh told his recording device.

Pickles, who had just appeared in Gamesh's living room, noticed that the god was completely stretched out over the couch, so he made himself at home instead on the floor in front of the coffee table. He placed the paper bag he had been carrying on the table and began to thoughtfully empty the contents.

"Is Sariel coming?" Ganesh inquired, holding the pause button.

"In a minute I t'ink," Pickles told him. Pickles carefully spread out some rolling paper and began to sprinkle various herbs and powders into its center.

"I suspect peripheral arterial disease, and have suggested medical management for the atherosclerosis," Ganesh continued. He snapped off the device and tossed it to the coffee table. "That looks intriguing," he commented.

"My special blend," Pickles explained. "So, dood, what da feck is innermitten' claudication?" he asked, carefully inspecting his newly rolled joint.

"Trouble walking."

"Den, why don't yoo jist say, trouble walkin'?"

"Because I am a very highly educated and erudite physician, and thus I say, intermittent claudication."

"So, wadda yoo do fer innermitten' claudication?" Pickles asked, handing off the lit cigarette.

"Customarily, it tell them to get up off their fucking ass and walk," Ganesh told him, taking a rather healthy sized hit. "And then I tell them to quit smoking."

"When yoo got a doobie in yer mouth?" Pickles laughed.

"I may as well, for all the good it does," Ganesh sighed. "Some people would rather to have their legs cut off than give up smoking."

"YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING BELIEVE..." Charles, who had just appeared in the living room, began. "Oh, hi Pickles."

"Hey," said Pickles.

"YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING BELIEVE... Ganesh, can you move your ass? There's room for more than one being on that fucking couch."

Ganesh laughed and drew up his legs, and Charles sat heavily beside him, loosening his tie. "YOU GUYS WOULDN'T FUCKING BELIEVE.... Hey, you got any beer, Ganesh?"

"Yes. Some Kingfisher."

"Oh, yeah, that shit is tasty. Where the fuck is it?"

"It is, as is customary, located in the refrigerator."

"Oh, fuck that. Gimme a hit," he demanded, grabbing up the joint from Pickles. "You guys would NOT FUCKING BELIEVE..."

"Should be careful wit' dis shit," Pickles warned.

"Why is that?" Charles asked, leaning back to take a rather greedy drag.

"May cause innermitten' claudication."

Gamesh snorted, and high-fived Pickles.

"I don't fucking believe it." Charles grumbled.