Disclaimer:  The characters from Emergency don’t belong to me.  Universal and Mark VII have that pleasure.


Grossing Out Johnny Gage


By:  Vanessa Sgroi


Johnny Gage barely bit back a groan, as his stomach flipped and rolled.  He sat at the table with his crewmates at Station 51, all who were eyeing him intently.  He was ill but staunchly denying it, despite the greenish tinge to his countenance.


“I’m fine.  Just fine.”  He wasn’t about to admit that even the smell of the coffee in front of him was making him queasy.


Looking over at the afflicted paramedic, Chet Kelly’s eyes acquired a certain gleam.  He glanced at the others at the table.  With a smile, he said, “Hey, Marco, what’s the grossest thing you ever ate as a kid?  I used to like worms.  They went down real good.”


Marco gave him a quizzical look, and Chet slid his gaze in Gage’s direction.  Catching on, Marco answered, “Oh, I used to drive Mama crazy.  I’d pop June bugs in my mouth and eat them.  She hated that.  What about you, Roy?”


DeSoto glanced from Johnny to Chet before saying, “Ah, I was never quite that . . . adventurous . . . but when I was really young, I ate paste.  Lots and lots of paste.”


“Paste?  Ah, that’s nothing!” exclaimed Chet, “Roy, you don’t know what you were missing!  You never even tried ants?  Man, cover ‘em in a little chocolate—“


The five men watched as Johnny’s face turned a darker shade of green.


After a long sigh, Stoker commented, “Personally, I used to like grasshoppers better.  Lots of protein.  And they’re nice and crunchy.”


“So, Cap,” Chet looked over at his superior, “what gross things did you eat as a kid?”


“Me?  Nothing.  But, I used to work with a guy who swore that road kill made a mighty fine meal.  Squirrels, raccoons, rats—you name it—and he liked it.”


A gasp sounded from across the table.  They watched as Gage’s face went from green to pasty white.  Beads of sweat dotted his forehead.  With a protracted groan, he bolted from the table, his hand clamped firmly over his mouth.


The remaining five men looked at each other for a moment before Captain Stanley spoke, “When will he learn he can’t fool us?”  Hank tilted his head toward the doorway where his junior paramedic had just disappeared.  “Roy?”


“I’ll go check on him, Cap.”


“Good.  While you’re doing that, I’ll go call in his replacement.”


* * *  The End  * * *


Author’s Note:  This story is dedicated to my firefighter friends, Chris L. and David Z., who simply delight in trying to gross me out.



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