The Hives Chronicles
'Huh? Where am I?' I asked the nurse in front of me. She didn't reply.
I was on a hospital bed with a bunch of tubes coming out of me and I couldn't move my head. I couldn't move my hands either. I realised that I was tied to the bed with handcuffs and rubber restraints.
'He's awake, officer,' the nurse said to someone as she went out of the room. A short man in a police uniform walked in. As my vision cleared I recognised his face: it was Detective Sheathcliff.
'Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,' he said, with a grin so wide that you could fit a banana sideways inside it.
'I'm so glad we caught you alive,' he continued. 'Sure, it would've been poetic for the biggest drug dealer in the zip code to die on his couch from a cocaine overdose. But fortunately, that big fella, your bodyguard, had the wits about him to bring you to a hospital. Don't worry about him. He'll get two years with parole probably. But you, you pimply sundried piece of rotten doo-doo, you're goin' away for a long looong time. And I get a gold star from the teacher for putting you behind bars. I didn't even need to be here. I just wanted to take one last look at your sorry excuse of a face before I say goodbye to it forever.'
'Could you do me a favour?' I asked him.
'A favour? What, you need one last hit before you hit the slammer? You addicts disgust me.'
'No. I don't need that. I just… Could you scratch my belly for me please? It's really itchy and I'm handcuffed. I got hives, you see.'