HIGHER THAN A HOVERCRAFT
This story is completely ridiculous and just for lols. If anybody has a problem with the subject matter, well -- poo on you.
Drakken winced -- this time, not from the pain that had been plaguing him for the last week, but from Dr. Halgen's suggestion.
Halgen sighed. "Believe me, Lipsky, I wouldn't suggest this unless I thought it would help. Obviously you're suffering from pain caused by injuries that will take a lot more time to heal. In order for you to get through the physical therapy, you have to have some way to control the pain. So far painkillers have proven somewhat effective, but you complain that they make your mind, and I quote, poofy, so that you can't work. This is simply a new approach."
Drakken frowned at the white-coated Global Justice physician. "I've done many extreme things in my life, Doctor," he said in a tight voice, his whole body tense with the effort to push the pain aside. "I've jumped off bridges, survived a high-speed slam into a brick wall, escaped alive from thirty-seven blood-thirsty mutant lagomorphs (author interjection: lagomorph = bunny rabbit-- refer to HARSH) but I have never..." Drakken paused. "I've never done drugs," he said simply. "It's just not right."
One side of Doctor Halgen's mouth twitched upward. Otherwise he remained a wise and caring physician. "In this case it will be legal, Mr. Lipsky. Not only legal, but possibly the only way to deal with this problem effectively. Or perhaps you'd just rather stay as is?"
Drakken winced -- this time it was from the pain. He'd been like this for days. Of course the injuries he had sustained during the final battle against his lunatic father were months behind him, and various aches and pains still plagued him off and on, but this particular pain simply would not stop. At first it had lasted only a moment or two, but gradually, day by day, it was becoming a never-ending assault on the nerve endings in his left arm and leg. Sometimes it was enough to make him whimper like a child, but Halgen's solution was so...unorthodox! I'm a supervillain, a thief, a guy with a really bad temper, Drakken thought, but I am NOT a drug user!
His mother had gone to great lengths to teach her son the evil ways of drug use. After all, Drakken had been a teenager in the late seventies, when the hippie movement was petering out but the doubly-wild no-holds-barred punk movement was about to establish a whole new set of socially freakish behaviors. Drakken had always stayed far away from those crowds. The old hippies were far too touchy-feely for him, and the punks, when they showed up, just plain scared him... though he did like their hair. Especially the spikes. His spikes were natural. He couldn't make them lay flat without using building cement. So in a way he had felt fashionable for the first time in his young life. But he knew the punks still would never accept him. He was a nerd. A hopeless nerd. Even with spikes.
Now all of his mother's training and the bad experiences from the past made him feel like he was now being enticed into doing something more wrong...wronger...more wronger?...than all of his past villainous activities combined.
Halgen pressed the small jar into his hand. "Just try it, Lipsky. For god's sake, you should be grateful that this option is open to you now."
Drakken stared down at the jar in his hand. He remembered what had happened about two hours ago.
He had been in his new "prison" home, alone, as Shego was at GJ headquarters teaching her class. The pain had hit like a bolt out of the blue. He had almost fallen, but his father had, under the worst of circumstances, taught him one thing -- how to bull his way through pain. He had lurched his way to the phone and called Dr. Director.
Medical marijuana had been her idea. She had watched Drakken struggle with pain and depression for more than a year, but this last set of injuries had finally broken through the amazing protective barrier that seemed to magically surround Drew Lipsky. He wasn't healing well this time, and the stress was showing.
Drakken grit his teeth at his GJ doctor. "Nyrrrrg! Fine."
Halgen nodded. "Come on, I'll show you how to use it."
When Shego came home that evening, she found Drakken on the couch in the living room watching the news. And giggling like mad.
"What's so funny?" she asked him.
Drakken tipped over sideways on the couch, his giggle becoming a full-blown belly laugh. "The Pre -- ha ha -- the Presi -- ha ha ha -- the President wants to -- to pass a health care bill HA HA HA!" He clutched his stomach as he was overcome by the laughter.
Shego raised an eyebrow. "Dr. Director told me this might happen." She strode over to the coffee table. "How the hell much did you smoke anyway?"
Drakken pointed at a little pipe. "A pinch! Just a pinch, I swear HAHAHAHAHA!"
"You are such a lightweight," Shego snarked, but she couldn't help but let a little lopsided grin peek through. Drakken was clearly not in pain, which gave her no small amount of relief. And he looked so doggone funny, grinning like a loony toon, gasping for breath even as he continued to alternate between barking laughter and quick little giggles that would have given her the heebie-jeebies if he'd been delivering them with a serious expression.
"I'm surprised they let you come home to try this stuff without supervision," she remarked.
The Global Justice monitor in the living room lit up. "I've been keeping an eye on him since he left my office this morning, Shego," said Dr. Halgen, his face displaying an expression of infinite patience. "He's just one of those people who react like this. There are other forms of the product we can try that should have milder reactions."
Shego glared at the monitor. She hated it, along with all the other monitors in the house. "Can't you people at least say knock-knock before you turn that thing on?" she said. "What if I was naked or something?"
Dr. Halgen replied, "You know the rules, Shego. I am at liberty to activate any monitoring device in the house --"
"Except the bedroom!" Shego snapped.
"The bedroom!" Drakken cackled, and began to pummel a pillow with his little fists. "The -- the -- bedroom WAHAHAHA!"
Shego shot him a glare. "Shut up, pothead."
"POTHEAD!!!" Drakken wailed. "Heeheeheehee!"
Dr. Halgen continued his sentence as if he hadn't been interrupted. "-- except the bedroom, of course. But otherwise, you take the risk of what I or your GJ monitoring team might see."
"Great." Shego suddenly pulled her shirt up over her head -- to reveal a small clingy workout shirt underneath. "HA!" she said to the monitor. "Gotcha!"
Drakken had stopped giggling and looked at her in shock. "Hey, no stripping in front of anybody but me!" Then he grinned at the thought. "Oooo!"
"Drakken, hush," Shego told him. She waggled a finger at Dr. Halgen's face on the monitor. He'd gone slightly pink. "You'd just better be careful, Doc. I'm not the modest type."
"She's not kidding!" Drakken added. "And I should know! Once she even did her morning exercises in nothing but —"
Halgen struggled to force back a grin. "I'll do what I can, Shego. And I suggest you give Drew something to eat now. He'll get the munchies soon, and I advise that he eat healthy foods, not a tub full of ice cream."
"Or seven boxes of Hank's Gourmet Cupcakes," Shego muttered. Louder she said, "Don't worry, Halgen. A fat Drakken?" She shuddered. "Been there, done that, not gonna repeat."
When the monitor clicked off, Shego sighed, allowing her shoulders to slump. She really did hate confrontations on that thing, and she was tired from her work day on top of that. Teaching GJ jerks the basics of hand-to-hand -- particularly her style of hand-to-hand -- combat was difficult, to put it lightly.
She turned to Drakken. He was quieter now, laying on his side watching the television news with a blank expression. "It's not funny anymore?" she prompted him. "Not even the health bill?"
"Nah," Drakken said quietly. "I'm pooped. Giggled myself out, I think."
Shego perched on the edge of the couch next to him. "How do you feel? Does your leg or arm hurt?"
"Sort of," Drakken replied. "But I don't care. It's like I can feel it, but it doesn't matter."
Shego nodded. "Then I'd say this stuff may be a good thing for you, for awhile at least. But you can't go through every day cackling like a moron. You're going to have to figure out how to balance your dose so you don't feel pain but your brain doesn't melt."
Drakken nodded. "Something like that, yeah. Sure is nice to not hurt, though. I'd do a happy dance about it but it would lose something with the crutches." He paused. "I'm hungry. We got any pickles?"
Shego stood, folding her arms. "Okay, I'll do this once. Just once. After tonight, you'll have to have something ready." She heaved a sigh. "I will go and make you dinner."
"Pancakes and cocomoo!" Drakken suddenly squealed. "With lots of syrup and butter! And lots of pancakes! And cocomoo!"
"I'm thinkin' more a bowl of vegetable soup and a sandwich."
"Aaaaagh! Okay okay, and your blasted... chocolate milk."
"Bad Shego, dissin' the cocomoo!"
"Oh shut up." Shego picked up her gym bag and shoes and sauntered to the bedroom. She'd already taken a shower at GJ, so she dropped the bag and shoes by her dresser, ran her brush through her hair for several minutes, and went back to the living room.
Or rather, she would have gone back to the living room if Drakken hadn't been blocking the doorway. He was leaning on only one crutch, but when she turned and saw him, he purposefully let the crutch fall to the floor. With a whip of one hand, he shut the door. "What?" she asked as he hopped over to her on his good leg, hop hop hop! "Are you --?" she tried again before he flung his arms around her and forced them both to go toppling down on the bed in a tight embrace.
"I'm hungry," he said, the look in his eyes telling her that he wasn't talking about food this time.
"Oh geez -- pot makes you horny?"
"I guess so." He kissed her. "I can't help it." He kissed her again. "It's not my fault." He really kissed her this time, long and slow and deep, pressing the length of his body firmly against her. "I'm a victim of forced substance abuse," he murmured into her mouth.
Shego pushed him off and heaved a sigh. "Dr. D, as much as I pity your tragic situation here, I'm tired. I want to take a bath."
"Tongue bath," Drakken whispered, and began to lick and nibble her neck.
Shego stifled a giggle. She was SO not the giggling type, but sometimes Drakken found that one little spot along her neck that, for some reason, was extremely ticklish. "Stop it! Look, I want to relax, okay? Reel it in!"
Drakken nibbled her earlobe. "I'll help you relax."
"Not that way!"
"Not which way? There are so many ways to choose from."
Shego gawked at her wacked-out husband. He looked back at her with eyes that were intense and filled with lust. She realized that he never looked at her like that -- well, not until she tediously cracked open his shell of inhibitions and pounded on his libido until he couldn't hold back any longer. But now he was actively pursuing her, like she usually had to do with him. Hmmm, she thought. This may not be bad after all...
"Just a little relaxation?" he asked in a husky voice, reaching for her. "I want you so bad..."
Okay, that's it, Shego thought, and she pulled him to her. He never talked like that. She liked it. "Let's relax."
About two hours later, Shego placed two bowls of vegetable soup and two tuna sandwiches on the little dining room table. Drakken was certainly hungry again -- he started wolfing the sandwich before she even sat down.
Shego didn't care that he started without her. She didn't even care that he never said thank you. She moved with slow deliberate grace to her chair, simply enjoying the sensations of being alive. Sitting down, she meticulously unfolded a napkin, put it on her lap, and started on her soup.
Now she knew what Drakken was really capable of, even with a messed-up knee. She'd never dreamed he could be quite so... inventive.
It made her smile.