By the end of the second book I was a tad annoyed with the doctor, between that and not being able to get the third book for another few weeks this popped into my head. It's all in good humor, trust me.
"What? What! That's it. He just says goodbye, so long, arevadarche and Gene gets Robert all fixed and boom no more prot," I sat in the middle of Central Park reading the last few lines of the book. "No fair!" You know, I say that so often even though I have no basis for comparison.
I chucked the book into the pond, beyond irritated. I watched from perched upon my rock as it became waterlogged. Then I came to my senses and ran back down after it, taking it out of the water and drying it with my shirt. Damn, those books are as precious to me as a bible is to a Christian. What was I doing?! I checked the book over to see how much damage I had caused. Oh, well, I thought though I was still a little upset, I can always get another one from Amazon.com. Even though they're slow as all hell!!
Now, standing in the fountain, soaking my pants with its waters and cradling my "On a Beam of Light" like it was an infant, I realized I needed a better plan. There was only one that occurred to me though. Being the presumptuous annoying twenty year old that I am I decided to go along with it, even though I would probably get into serious trouble. Oh well, who cares, I like living on the edge.. I even have leather pants, well okay so I've never worn them because they seem tacky, but they're still in my closet waiting for the day when I want to be on "Cops".
It took me about thirty minutes to hail a taxi and ride over to the Manhattan Psychiatric Institute. My pants were still a little wet from the fountain, and in my fist-clenched hand I was holding the still wet book, I must have looked atrocious.. and quite pissed off, possibly even mentally ill which might explain why I got past the guards so easily.
"Just have to talk care of some business," I nodded to them, and they nodded right back, not even giving me a second notice.
Passing through the corridors was a little freaky, it seemed I knew the layout of the place by heart even though I had never been there before. Soon I was at Dr. Brewer's office and barging through his door. He must have seen the hellfire in my eyes because he looked absolutely shocked for a moment.
I walked right over to his desk and slammed the book down, "How could you do that?!"
"What—what did I do?" I believe he was pressing a button under his desk that would page the orderlies to come get me, though that might have just been the paranoia talking.
"You, you.." I could hardly say it, "You killed prot. You cured Robert but you killed prot. And after all he's done for you. You made Robert become so mentally stable and healthy that prot didn't have a chance. It's not fair, bring him back!"
The good doctor looked at me strangely, but I could tell that he wasn't going to be swayed to my viewpoint easily. He believed he had done the right thing in curing Robert, but still integrating prot and Rob together.. argh! Why do doctors think they know everything.
"Can't you just bring him back.. please, I miss him," I started to put on my pout-y puppy dog face when I felt a tap on my back. Oh, damn, I thought, he had been with a patient when I barged in and I hadn't even noticed while in the fits of my rage.
I twirled around and saw him, for a moment I thought it was Robert but then realized he was wearing sunglasses, "Were you referring to me?"
"Prot!" I jumped into his lap, to his extreme surprise. I gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek, "You're back!"
Prot looked towards me and over at the doctor, "You humans and your strange customs."
"Trust me, I wasn't aware of this 'custom' either," Dr. Brewer replied.
I felt a little embarrassed since I had practically jumped on prot, but just so happy to have him back. Sitting on his knees, facing Dr. Brewer again I responded, "I am so sorry. I guess I just jumped to conclusions. I should have known you couldn't cure Robert of prot, especially since he's an alien symbiot and not a multiple as you vehemently believe." I stuck out my tongue to him, "I guess I'll just be out of your hair now." Standing up, I retrieved the book from his desk, nodding slightly.
Then I skipped out of the room happy as a cheerleader on pep rally day.
From behind I heard Dr. Brewer call to me, "You might want to read the third book, it's gonna be a doozy."
I turned back and smiled back at the both of them and then skipped away, singing, "prot's back! prot's back! prot's back!"
While I was leaving, I could hear their conversation faintly.
"Who WAS that?!" Prot questioned, still a little shocked.
"I'm not sure, but seeing as this is a mental institution," The doctor replied casually, "I believe she will be back one day."
And because we can't post lists to FF.net anymore, I will just put this in as a bonus:
TOP TEN SIGNS YOUR OBSESSED WITH K-PAX:
10. You don't mind being called crazy anymore; in fact you don your aluminum foil hat proudly in an effort to get committed.
9. Whenever anyone doubts you, you reply, "You humans," and give them a look of pity.
8. You've got all your bags packed awaiting for your own beam of light. (Come on, prot! I've been waiting forever! Where the frick are you?)
7. Some kids ask for a pony for Christmas; you asked Santa for an Ap.
6. You're strictly a vegetarian now, and if anyone asks about your new eating habits you reply, "I do not eat fellow beings."
5. You chow down on that banana like there's no tomorrow, devouring the peel too.
4. You do a report in school about how light travel is really possible, and people have been reading Einstein wrong, the teacher looks astonished at your brilliant report. Your first A all year.
3. After that you barge into the Manhattan Institution and demand to talk with prot claiming that you need help with the rest of your homework.
2. You actually make your self mentally sick by inventing a multiple for yourself. I think I'll call him steve!
And the #1 reason you know your obsessed with K-PAX:
1. You're actually writing and or reading this list at the moment.