Chapter 15

After Jack convinced the drunk man to swallow two aspirin and drink a tall glass of water, he pulled up the sides on the faux hospital bed. At least the glass of water shut the man up. Singing was not Intern’s forte.

The wood elf gave him a baleful look from the doorway, but typically wood elves presented themselves as dour. He cleared his throat, “Would it be permissible to ask you a question?”

“Yes, if there is a question to be asked, you should ask the question now” Jack said, trying to switch mental gears to address wood elf logic.

“What is human humor and why do you laugh?”

Jack hung his head. “I don’t think I can do metaphysics right now. Try another question.”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Jack groaned. “The human answer is: ‘to get to the other side.’ The answer fulfills a human child’s wonderment at literalism while providing a touchstone of obliviousness and futility for the human adult, which they call black humor.”

“My confusion must be that there are different types of human humor,” the wood elf said.

“Yes,” Jack said. “My mother used to tell us ‘Don’t count your chickens until they hatch,’ an aphorism teaching us that a promise is empty until it is fulfilled. One day my mother got confused and chastised me with ‘don’t count your chickens until they cross the road.’ She got the wrong chickens, which makes the joke funny, but not ‘ha-ha’ funny.”

“I don’t understand,” the wood elf said.

“Just as I would not understand wood elf humor,” Jack said. “Do wood elves do fart jokes?”

“I do not think we would find flatulence funny,” the wood elf said. “Can I do your chicken joke without the chicken?”

“What a brilliant question,” Jack said, raising his voice. “The parallel joke in the Twilight Lands is, ‘Why did the dragon cross the road?’ The answer to the joke is, ‘To eat the anarchist.’”

“Eep,” someone said out in the waiting room. There was a scramble of feet followed by the slamming of the infirmary door. Jack held up his finger as if he were making a point. “Timing is everything and that joke was funny.”

The wood elf leaned in. “Why is this joke funny?”

Jack nodded sagely. “The joke itself is not funny. Putting the fear of the dragon into the heart of our misbehaving hobbit by telling a not-funny joke is funny. I’m getting a good deal of mileage out of dragon jokes today, hilarious.”

“I do not understand this humor you performed,” the wood elf said.

“Did this humor generate magic?” Jack asked “If the joke is funny, then the joke generates magic. Logic, illogic, and playing games with words are tools for jokes but the only criterion that matters is generating magic.”

“Ah, now I understand,” The wood elf said. “If I want to the apply for the open slot of late-night comedian in the lounge, I need to memorize many different jokes and the ones that generate magic in the audience will make me funny.”

“Yes,” Jack said with great enthusiasm. “The only small point you are missing is that you need to know which jokes generate magic before you go on stage. However, you are a wood elf, who are renowned for their intelligence and focus. I’m sure you can overcome this challenge by trying out the jokes on the hobbits first. Their humor is similar to human jokes.”

The wood elf bowed, “Thank you, Jack, for answering my questions.” He departed.

As Jack stepped back into the waiting room, Mawdlyn stepped up to him. “You are evil,” she said with a smile. “Me likey.”

“I’m going to make those hobbits follow every last letter of their contract and suffer every day for it,” Jack said. “Don’t ever bite the hand that feeds you, Mawdlyn. How are you feeling? You took quite a blow.”

“My head on the outside hurts, but my head on the inside feels great, Jack. I swung back at that fucker. I was not near his size and brought him to a standstill. Sometimes generating magic is not enough; sometimes the orc must generate pain so that magic can be created. I made pain. Now, I can generate magic. Is great news, no?”

“It is great news,” Jack said, wondering if an empowered Mawdlyn was a good thing in the long run. “Is Mr. Assyrtiko still in the room with the actress?”

“Mmhmm,” she said, running her finger down Jack’s arm.

“Not until Soren gives you an ‘all clear,’” Jack said, stepping backward. “Even then, there have been developments.”

“I know. I can smell them, and I find them ... arousing,” she said. “Spin promised to add me to the list.”

“I’m sure she did,” Jack said, fleeing to the back examination room. “Checking in, sir.”

“Lalita was just telling me about her storied career,” Mr. Assyrtiko said. “I think Bollywood films would be a great addition to our rotation.”

“Yes sir, I think the Bollywood approach would be an excellent addition to our cultural exchange with the magic folk,” Jack said. “I will trade a spaghetti western for a Bollywood musical any day of the week.”

The general manager nodded. “Ms. Shivdasani sees great parallels between the shaman’s poultices and tinctures, and her native Ayurveda medicine. The two of them had a great conversation and she is comfortable with his treatment. All her needs caused by the blow are minor, thankfully, and she will be released from the infirmary momentarily. Who do we have to escort her back to her room?”

“Mawdlyn is out in the waiting room, sir, and she would enjoy the opportunity to work up here in the guest wings. She earned that privilege today.” Jack turned to the woman on the exam table. “Mawdlyn had a further encounter with your attacker today and acquitted herself well.”

“Can I post charges against that limp-dicked turd casserole in this locale?” Ms. Shivdasani asked. “I want Yama to torture his ass in Naraka until the sun ceases to shine. No “manly men will be men” exoneration shit.”

Mr. Assyrtiko gave Jack a look to which Jack gave a quick nod. “Yes, charges can be posted. Because there are many witnesses plus a shaman and a dragon on the premises, I believe the case will be adjudicated within a day or two. Jack will give you the updates.”

“Thank you,” she said. “One more thing, that creature that came to my aid, the cute little thing, he deserves a special thank you. Maybe you could put some extra kibble in his dish. He was kind and sweet and protective.”

Jack put his hand on his boss’s shoulder. “Of course, ma’am, I will make sure the tahtel receives a special treat in appreciation of services rendered. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

She shook her head in the negative. The two men made their goodbyes and returned to the waiting room. After giving instructions to the orc, the two men stepped out into the hallway. The general manager rubbed his stomach like he was in pain.

“Another incident to burn another hole in my stomach,” Mr. Assyrtiko said. “I don’t know how much more I can handle. Kibble for a tahtel? With tahtel in the house, I must keep the Russian caviar under lock and key.” He shook his head, “They gelded a man.”

“Justice already delivered,” Jack said. “They knew what they were doing, and the punishment is already rendered. He cannot sue because he signed the contract. Have the Oza tribal chief sign off on it tomorrow and we can close the book on this episode.”

“Why didn’t we think of this with the Arab prince?”

Jack sighed. “The wood elves delivered their justice before we could intervene. They were not wrong, sir. If we had let the prince slip back through the crossing, there would have been no punishment, which would have jeopardized our agreement with the dragons.”

“Ahg, my stomach. I need my meds.” Mr. Assyrtiko was bent over and leaning against the wall. His face was twisted in pain.

“No sir,” Jack said, taking his boss by the arm. “We are going to the shaman.” He took the man back inside and sat him on the gurney in the empty examination room. Jack hopped into next doorway and pulled the shaman over before his boss had time to bolt for the door.