Dr. Harrison, a UK trained emergency doctor finds herself in a strange unfamiliar world after an unexpected event causes the tables to turn on her. Luckily for her, an old friend with a mysterious past is there to accompany her in this strange new land.
Voices:
Eliza Bethann Harrison | - kitsunebliss
Doja Dog | Mrs. Joanna | Misc Female Voices | - Lindsey Moore
Narrator | Reporter | - Jordan Karst
Paramedic | Nurse | - DogEyeBag
Security Guard | - Kairrey Sugar
The Badussy Wars is a podcast created by Kelvin Keth, published by CHIMERATOPS.
For all associated links, visit our Vista Page
For all other players, visit the official Buzzsprout page
Dr. Harrison, a UK trained emergency doctor finds herself in a strange unfamiliar world after an unexpected event causes the tables to turn on her. Luckily for her, an old friend with a mysterious past is there to accompany her in this strange new land.
Voices:
Eliza Bethann Harrison | - kitsunebliss
Doja Dog | Mrs. Joanna | Misc Female Voices | - Lindsey Moore
Narrator | Reporter | - Jordan Karst
Paramedic | Nurse | - DogEyeBag
Security Guard | - Kairrey Sugar
The Badussy Wars is a podcast created by Kelvin Keth, published by CHIMERATOPS.
For all associated links, visit our Vista Page
For all other players, visit the official Buzzsprout page
The Badussy Wars, Part one, her third eye. Dear listener, put yourself in Dr. Harrison's shoes and ask yourself if seeing is believing, why can't ICU? Stick around to the end to hear the answer, but perhaps you already know it.
Unknown Voice:Ah-huh.<affirmative>. Yeah, I see it. Okay. I'll talk to you later. Bye.
Dr. Harrison:Surrounded in orchestrated sounds of beeping machines, shuffling feet, and the kind of clean you only see in a bathroom. I make my way towards the ICU ward As an emergency trauma doctor, it is my duty to oversee the vast amount of patients that come in here. Those that enter with severe medical emergencies are sent to me to check on. I can only do so much. However, the nurses try their best to resuscitate the patients. When you witness the act of trying to bring a dead person back to life, it's like trying to ask the ferryman of the river styx for a refund. I mean, I can already imagine being that lad, how many patients I've witnessed being sent to him. The difference between his occupation and mine is the fact that he never tries at what he does. The process of taking souls is just as natural to him as extinction is to the dodo bird. I've always wanted to ask him why it was fair for him to do what he does without effort. Why- I always had to fight for innocent people to have a second chance of their lives. I guess I'll never understand. An old woman senior. Her skin covered with delicate age spots and slight signs of wrinkling, white brunette with wavy hair lying face down in a moving gurney. Her eyes closed. A little bit of a wheeze to her breathing. o visible signs of trauma. Her hand is clutched at her heart as if she was trying herself to rip it out of her chest cavity with the strength of her will to live.
Old Woman:Oh God, my son. I need to see my son Michael. Where the hell are you?
Paramedic:It's all right, ma'am. You're in good hands. Your condition must be stabilized in order for you to see him.
Old Woman:Michael, I want to see you when you get there. We'll be together again as a family.
Dr. Harrison:The old woman who had gone into a state of panic after an obvious heart attack has suddenly gone into a trance like state of catharsis. Her eyes see something that none of us can ever hope to see in our lifetimes. I mean, at least not yet. The gurney containing the old woman is ushered swiftly into my exam room where I prepare to open up her heart and clear her artery of the clot that has violently taken her heart hostage.
Old Woman:Oh, oh, he's here. Michael, you've come to take me to paradise.
Dr. Harrison:I look at the paramedics searching for an answer as to why the old woman was gesturing to a person who hasn't even shown up yet. They reflected my own gaze back at me. A type of silent communication that isn't entirely out of the ordinary at this hospital. All right, Miss Joanna, we're going to put you under now.
Old Woman:Let me go. I want to see Michael. I want to see Michael. Please. Let me see him one more time please.
Dr. Harrison:She has an abnormal heart. In order to save this woman's life, we're going to have to replace it entirely scalpel. Thankfully, due to the recent rise in modern technology, the gracious scientists have developed an entirely sufficient artificially constructed human heart. Unlike the devices made up of metal that replicated the structure and function of human hearts, this one has been specifically bioengineered and tested to receive input from all blood types and modify its own program cells to reprogram itself into that blood type. It looks, uh, like a fairly standard human heart, with the exception of its prussian blue hue lining the length of the arteries. Once the heart has been placed inside the old woman's chest cavity lining up to where the valves are, the bio organ will rapidly change its hue. Quite like the assimilation of a gecko into it's surrounding environment. The cells of the bio organ will modify the surrounding cells to accept the new heart, giving the body the message to latch onto it and assimilate itself with it. The process of which can be compared to dropping a sugar cube into a nice roast of a brew from your local Dunkins. Let's hit it! The nurse then places the bio organ into my palms, where I then connect the valves and arteries to the correct places. What happens after is truly unbelievable. The blue hue turns a bright red. As the surrounding stitch work begins to dissolve, almost immediately, the stitching materializes to reveal fresh tissue free of scaring with a fading blue hue trailing behind it. I met a girl once during college. Her name was Doja Dog. She was studying for software engineering. While I was on my way to receiving a degree in physics, we became quite close. She would help me with my calculus problems, and I would well buy her a cup of coffee. Yeah, Doja was always the smart one. She moved schools due to a family emergency, and I haven't been in contact with her since. Despite how silly she always was, I could tell she was the type to always have a lot on her mind without letting the world know what's in her head. If she was in my predicament, she would probably be doing something fun instead of ordering another cup of coffee. Seriously, those things at Dunks are addicting. It's been a few hours, so I return back to the old woman's room to check on her. Entering the elevator. I am greeted by the familiar stench of eaten food plates. The poor teenagers that work in the food department are always pushing the hell out of those giant metal food containers for at least three floors. It's a mess silently making my way through the hallways. I look for room 13 b Cracking open the door just smidge. I find the old woman staring intensely at the TV screen right across the room from her. The tray that has been set down for her is full of unopened containers of various jello and ensure drinks. A crude manner in which the tray has been arranged, but sufficient enough that it's arrangement can be copied and served to every single patient in the hospital.
Old Woman:Have you heard of the left right game?
Dr. Harrison:Yes, I have. It's an urban legend apparently, But Miss Joanna, I need to know about your condition.
Old Woman:It's coming.
Reporter:We interrupt to bring you breaking news. There has been reports of an incoming nuclear bomb. I repeat. We are under the current threat of a nuclear attack. I repeat a level five lockdown has been initiated. If you are in a building, take cover and stay away from the windows. I repeat. Stay away from the windows!
Dr. Harrison:Excuse me. A nuclear war. I couldn't have heard that, right?
Old Woman:Dear. Your face has gone pale.
Dr. Harrison:I, um,
Old Woman:Let the words out honey.
Dr. Harrison:I'm sorry. Miss Joanna, I'm sorry we couldn't find your son's phone number. I, I I'm sure he would've wanted to see you.
Old Woman:What do you mean?
Dr. Harrison:I'm sure that this emergency that's being broadcasted, will all be resolved within a few hours. There is nothing to worry about Miss Joanna.
Old Woman:No dear. I'm afraid that won't work on me. I know what's going to happen. Michael has already told me,
Dr. Harrison:Is Michael in here with us?
Old Woman:No. He's inside of us. He is in all of us Dear.
Dr. Harrison:What are you doing? I open my eyes to find myself in the back of a subway, but something just isn't quite right. Who's driving this train? I get up weekly pushing myself off the cushion seat. A row of red velvet booths is laid out before me with not one inhabitant. Walking briskly toward the conductor's train car. I find myself at a junction. There is no pathway between the two train cars only connected by a balcony and a chain attaching the two cars together, huh? You'd think the afterlife would have fancier technology by now. Okay, Dr. Harrison, you can do this. You didn't go to ballet recitals for your entire four years of high school for nothing. Okay, so there's the conductor's cabin
Miss Joanna:<affirmative>
Dr. Harrison:Grasping the door handle to the cabin. I feel a familiar warmth that can only be described as the feeling of opening the door to your childhood home. Suddenly, a wisp of cold wind causes the hairs on my neck to tense up as if anticipating a moment of uncertainty. I don't really want to be here. I don't even know where I am or how far I am from home. All I know is that I need an answer and I need one now. Miss Joanna, you're the conductor of this train, but why Miss Joanna? Please speak to me. I don't understand why I'm here. What happened? Please, I need an answer.
Miss Joanna:Did we frighten you?
Dr. Harrison:Yes, indeed. Very much so. You look so different from when I last saw you.
Miss Joanna:I've always looked this way.<laugh>.
Dr. Harrison:Perhaps you just didn't see it
Miss Joanna:before.
Dr. Harrison:How is it possible? Miss Joanna? You've got an extra eye top. Your forehead.
Miss Joanna:I'm so glad you're here. I have quite the message for you.
Dr. Harrison:Well, what was it you wanted to tell me?
Miss Joanna:We haven't got much time left. You are in the afterlife, but your time here is failing.
Dr. Harrison:So I died?
Miss Joanna:Essentially, however, you are being brought back to the world of the living at this very moment. I just have one thing I need to tell you.
Dr. Harrison:Oh God. Oh God. What am I going to do when I wake up? Am I going to have a concussion? Do I still have to pay my mortgage?
Miss Joanna:Dr. Harrison, listen to me. This world that you are about to enter will be truly unlike anything you've ever seen before. It's only a matter of time before it.
Dr. Harrison:You know, I like Hey Lover by Daughters of Eve myself. It's got this vintage vibe going on, you know?
Nurse:Oh my God. Look, she's finally awake.
Dr. Harrison:Where am I? What happened? You were knocked up cold by the side of the road, huh? I remember being pushed out of the window
Unknown Voice:And then I found you.
Dr. Harrison:Wait, is that?
Nurse:Those are your pain medications, Miss Eden.
Dr. Harrison:Eden? But that's not?
Nurse:It's your name.
Dr. Harrison:I guess I don't have the authority to question the laws of this world. I don't very much have the strength to question it as of this moment If a nuclear bomb truly was dropped. Scarfing down the assortment of imitation tacos, pomegranate juice, and the assortment of pills, I feel the sudden emptiness in my stomach being replaced by the normal feeling of fullness. My stomach starts to rumble and I feel a sudden wince in my gut. I start blacking out.
unknown:< unknnown>
Dr. Harrison:What in, what was that?
Unknown Voice:Hey, I'm trying to bust you out of here.
Dr. Harrison:Who's there? Who are you?
Unknown Voice:Shut the hell up. I'm trying to save you smartass. Don't you recognize me Cupcake?
Dr. Harrison:Cupcake was my pet name for a certain someone in college. I only remember getting called that by
Unknown Voice:It's me Doja. We have to go through the elevators unnoticed.
Dr. Harrison:Okay.
Doja Dog:What's wrong with you? Don't you wanna leave?
Dr. Harrison:Of course I do, But this is all happening so fast and I don't quite feel comfortable being pulled like that.
Doja Dog:I'm sorry, Cupcake. I shouldn't have done that. I apologize. Let's go.
Dr. Harrison:Actually, it's Dr. Harrison now, and if you'd please get your hands off of me. I'd really prefer to be in solitude right now
Doja Dog:According to the staff. Your name is Miss Eden and you don't have a choice and I'm saving you-
Dr. Harrison:From what?! I've already gone through hell, what could possibly be worse?
Doja Dog:You don't wanna know what they put in the pomegranate juice.
Dr. Harrison:Excuse Me?
Doja Dog:Let's go!
Dr. Harrison:Making our way through the silent nursery ward, I notice that a lot has changed since back then. The hospital's upper ceiling is lined with support beams that appear to be lined with gold. The walls are a pristine, clear material as if given by God himself. Judging by the nature of the architecture, the technology used to design this must have cost a lot. The rooms, however, appear to be a bit inconsistent with all the numbers seemingly randomized and not in correct order. As if someone had an idea for the rooms in a hospital and assigned an AI to do its job for it. There doesn't appear to be any occupying patients in them. Lights illuminate the entrance to the elevators, which appear to be the most familiar structure in this place. So what have you been up to?
Doja Dog:Oh, you know, I got a job.
Dr. Harrison:I really don't know.
Doja Dog:Sorry dude. Hey, do you still do poetry?
Dr. Harrison:No. I got addicted to caffeine and being boring. I would say thanks for visiting me, but I don't work here.
Doja Dog:Thanks for visiting me then. I appreciate it, dude.
Dr. Harrison:<laugh>. Okay, got it.
Manic Guard:And where do you think you're going?
Dr. Harrison:I glance backwards, not desiring to make eye contact for a brief second, I spot a gun aimed right at the back of my head. My hands instantly go up. This is definitely not a normal hospital. Doja. I need you to tell me where I am.
Manic Guard:Uh uh uh, nope, no talking! I'll ask again. Where are you going? Little ladies?
Dr. Harrison:The voice gets closer. It almost feels like it's in the back of my head. I can already imagine the feeling of the bullet piercing through my skull. My next words have to be chosen carefully. Listen, I am not a threat.<gunshot sound>
Narrator:And now to the answer to the question. If seeing is believing, why can't I see you? If you can wield thoughts into existence, that must mean the inner artificial vivarium that is constructed to represent our idea of perfection should already exist. Instead, I close my eyes and I dream of more. I can't believe in the idea of perfection when I'm incapable of wanting it.