A beat-up Corolla with a faded Papa John's tag rolled up to the ambulance bay of the ER. A pockmarked teenager got out and knocked hesitantly on the ambulance bay doors. With a raised eyebrow, the charge nurse let him in.
"Delivery for Jenny?" he said.
We looked around, a bit confused. Jenny, our nurse wasn't working that day.
"Says here she's a patient in room 5," he added, helpfully.
Ah, Jenny. Too bad for you, Hawaiian is my favorite. You just became NPO.