The secure psychiatric ward of the Los Angeles VA Hospital was hectic on the best of days. On April 1st, it was pure chaos. One of the orderlies found a rubber snake coiled around his ankles.
Three of the patients were treated for minor abrasions received while trying to hide in the drop ceilings. Someone strung Ace bandages between the light fixtures.
So when the head nurse called everyone together for an announcement, they all assumed it was to talk about the whoopee cushion that had inexplicably made its way onto her chair that morning.
Nurse Green cleared her throat louder than was strictly necessary. “This,” she raised her voice over the light buzz of the gathered patients, “is Nurse Sayers.
She is the new nurse in charge of the third shift. I want you all to treat her with the same dignity and respect that you treat me.”
Captain HM Murdock rolled his eyes. The whoopee cushion on her seat was proof enough of the dignity and respect she was treated with on a regular basis. He ran his eyes over the new nurse.
She had dark hair, dark eyes, and a clear complexion with little roses of color in her cheeks. Her age was impossible to guess, but if he had to, she was no more than thirty-two.
She was the picture perfect nurse; the one that most men dreamed about. Nurse Green’s voice snapped him back to the present.
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