Two paramedics piled out of the ambulance. One held a large wrench.
“Is this a medical emergency?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said, glancing at my car. Smoke curled from beneath the hood.
“Right.” He turned to his partner and swung his wrench sharply at the man’s knees; he screeched and crumpled.
“You broke his leg!”
“We’re emergency services, aren’t we? Here, help me get him on the stretcher.”
“That’s not how it works!”
“It isn’t?” He looked confused. Just then, the fire truck arrived. The firemen leapt out, Zippos waving. “Hold on guys,” he called. “She don’t want any.”
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
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