Dr Bourbo

"And that is why you have been  taken to the most excellent hospital, Mr. Barnes. And I'm sure that you are in the best care.... you need not fear."

Dr. Bourbo was a large, immense man, with a burly chest littered with brown hair. His dark blotched skin made an ugly figure indeed, but in comparison to some of the other people of his day he was deemed attractive. Idiots. Anyhow, he adjusted the needle, wiping Mr. Barnes small dry arm before he stuck it in him. Mr. Barnes, called Elliot by his friends, was a blonde haired gentleman, who was the son of a wealthy man investing himself in the railroad industry. He was rather spoiled, but not nessicarily one of the money loving brats that make up the children of the upper class. Rather, he was determined on doing good sensible things with his money and was not one to shy away from any challenges for his intelligence or prestige. He had hung his overcoat and top hat at the hanger, and had now rolled up his skinny sleeve to await the needle. A new disease was going around, and as Bourbo adjusted the needle, Barnes looked around at the small doctor's office they were in, quite annoyed at the lengthy process of filling out the information even though everyone knew who he was. The whitewashed walls and small oak desk by some test tubes indicated the sullen atmosphere he found himself in. Whooping cough was about to be vaccinated for Mr. Barnes.

"Can you be quick about this?" Mr. Barnes replied in a tone he thought to be most sweet and genuine, as Dr. Bourbo continued getting the needle selected and ready.

"These things take time," Dr. Bourbo replied in his rich, dark British accent. "And you wouldn't want me to...cause an accident from carelessness."

"No sir...but I probably could allow for a change in pace around here... persay perhaps to convientanly speed up this process... no offense meant, Dr."

As Mr Barnes took a breath and his eyes twinkled in a friendly manner, he noticed that the good doctor was taking a little bit TOO much time to prepare the vaccine. He was up to something else. He was developing chlorophyll, a chemical used to drug patients and or victims. Leaping up as Bourbo turned around, Barnes grabbed a syringe at the last moment, as Bourbo's hand swung right in a wide cuff, the dark hair hitting up against the face of Elliot Barnes. He clattered against the cabinets, rubbing his head, all in a blur as Bourbo smiled as wide as a train track at the figure of Barnes, knocked out cold.