Rhinoplastic Vengance

Apart from during this short interval, Clarke never made a sound - at least none that anyone outside would have heard - although he tried to scream when he saw through his blurred eyes, a pair of scissors lying next to what looked like a very bloody ear.

Waking up from a deep subconscious sleep, Clarke couldn't see a thing, but

HOLY FUCK THE PAIN!

He gasped for breath in the darkened room, tasting blood in his mouth even over the agony, and by the time he managed to make a sound, the overhead florescents had flashed on.

'I guess the morphine wore off', smiled Chris, who was leaning against the doorway. 'I wouldn't worry, you'll probably pass out again in a minute. I simply wished to congratulate you on your surgery. I feel the operation was an outstanding success.'

When he awoke for what must have been the third time, Clarke screamed for help! anything! Deckard strolled in with a mirror in his hand.

'Pleasure to see you've recovered Mr Clarke. I for one am proud. It's like a kind of artwork to me.'

He began unwrapping the mounds of bandages that encased most of his patient's face.

'There may be a few spots of blood on your nice leather jacket, but if it's dried black, it may blend in.'

Clarke's arms were panickily straining against the straps that held them to the arms of the chair.

'What the fuck have you done to me?'

Chris paused, and squatted next to him. 'Does the name Jemma Deckard mean anything to you? No? How about Jemma Sunderland? ANSWER me dipshit! She said she left me for "Jason Clarke", and guess what fuckwit? You're the only Jason Clarke listed within 50 fuckin' miles of this place! What do you have to say about that?'

Standing up, wiping off his hands, he peeled the last of the facial dressing away, and presented the mirror to Jason, who's facial expression would have been one of sheer horror, if his cheek bones had still been aligned.

Deckard had the pleasure of making the phone call to his ex-wife in the company of Mr Clarke. She was surprised certainly, since it was the first time he had spoken to her in almost a year, but even more-so when he casually mentioned that he had given Jason a face lift.

'He looks fine to me', she remarked in a plainly loud manner. 'If you really wanted to talk to me again, you should have at least come up with a better conversation Christopher.'

She took alot of persuading to believe that Deckard had indeed operated on her now husband of 4 months, and still she didn't buy it. That was of course acceptable. Chris had expected ridicule. He certainly had not however, expected her to call her new husband to the phone. It was a further surprise to hear her call him Jacob. After that, the threatening male voice at the other end of the line didn't seem so bad. Not when confronted by the problem of the struggling stranger in the surgeons chair.