Fired With Dignity
by Alan Mittag
It was the end of the match, Dignity failed to prevent the Mousillon Morningstars from scoring in the final seconds, and the game ends in a 2-2 tie. Not bad, considering how horrible the first quarter was for our Dignified Heroes.
As soon as the final whistle blew, Coach Sestonn made his way to the casualty box, where the apothecary was still bandaging Lithe. After an hour of work, Lithe’s wounds were dressed like a mummy, from head to toe, and in such a loose manner that they would come off as soon as he tried to move.
Coach Sestonn rolled his eyes when he saw him, shaking his head with disgust. Then he walked over and knelt by Lithe’s side. (Also in the room, Fortress wouldn’t be making any full sprints for the rest of his life, and Jester would be so sore and fragile that the next time he is shoved to the ground will be the end to his career.)
“Lithe,” Sestonn said. “Lithe, can you hear me?”
The elf’s eyes glistened in the light. “I’m sorry, Coach. I don’t think… you can use me… anymore. Not… like… this.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Coach Sestonn said. “You heal up. Get healthy. And then we will figure out what to do.”
Tears fell down the broken elf’s face, but he nodded just slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Coach Sestonn smoothed back the hair from Lithe’s forehead. “It’s not your fault.”
Then something changed in Coach Sestonn. His eyes cleared. His jaw clenched. And he rose up to his feet.
“I did everything I could fo….” the apothecary said just before Coach Sestonn’s fist drove through his face. Blood and teeth splattered the ground. The apothecary followed.
Coach Sestonn pointed down at him, “You!” And kicked him in the side. “You are the worst Doctor I have ever seen!” He kicked him again. “First Physique!” And again he kicked him. “Now Lithe!” And again. And again. The apothecary curled up into a fetal ball, screaming for help. “If The Truth were here I would FEED YOU TO THEM!!”
He laid into the doctor, a few more kicks until Tenacity grabbed him and pulled him away. “Calm down, General. Calm down.”
It took a moment, but Coach Sestonn calmed down. He stopped fighting. He looked around and saw all of Dignity, watching him. And he took in a deep breath.
After a few seconds, Tenacity let him go. Sestonn looked back at the big elf and nodded his head. “Thank you. I almost did something I shouldn’t have.”
The apothecary was still curled on the ground, moaning in pain, crying in fear.
Coach Sestonn walked over to the little table where the Apothecary’s tools were spread out, and rolled them back up. He glanced over to the apothecary and said. “You’re fired.” He took the tools with him and started on his way out of the casualty box.
As he passed Eccentric, Coach Sestonn stopped. He cast another quick glance back at the apothecary on the floor, then handed the tools to Eccentric. “That man has some broken ribs,” Sestonn said. “And there’s no employed apothecary around to help.”
Eccentric accepted the tool kit. His face, saddened with the pain of his best friend’s injury, grew happy, excited. The sparkle in his eyes flared back to life as the realization dawned across him. “I’ll do my best!”
Coach Sestonn continued out. The rest of Dignity followed, being careful as they moved the injured.
Only Eccentric remained. He unrolled the tool kit and said, “I wonder what this thing does?”