Ten Thousand Thundering Typhoons!!!

A short story i wrote yesterday....

G.O.C= General Officer Commanding, a very very high ranking officer in the Army, who usually heads an entire Corps or a enitre Command sector...usually of the rank of Lieutenant General or a Major General.
Flag Staff House= The residence of the G.O.C is traditionally called Flagstaff House.
Captain= The juniormost rank (Outside of the Academy- where the Officer is comissioned, and within which he wears the rank of Lieutenant)
Patiala= You dont know THIS???? Fugg off and educate yourself here. It's a nice story about the Patiala Peg!
Lidocaine= A local-anaesthetic your dentist gives you, usually as an injection.
Anyway, here goes....

QUITE AN IMPRESSION

A shadowy figure padded its way through Flagstaff House making its way to the cabinet that held the foreign scotch. A Patiala was hurriedly poured and gulped down. The glass nestled in the clammy hands of a man who had spent a lifetime marshalling anxious subordinates around, and who was now deeply distressed that he could not marshal his own anxieties.

A few more sips later, and considerably less anxious, he remembered a trusted maxim from his days in the Academy- ‘The best defense is a good offense’. Indeed, the figure thought, tomorrow, an impression would be made. He would show who was Alpha Male.

Hardly a furlong away, Srini’s roommate walked in to find him sitting amidst by a sea of books. The G.O.C was coming, he was told, and that Captain Srinivas hoped to make a favorable impression on the big man.

The next morning, the G.O.C was received at the steps of the Dental Center and briskly escorted to the office for tea and snacks. It would help, thought Capt. Srinivas, to establish a congenial Patient-Doctor relationship.

“No time, No time…Lets get down to the deed right away.” the GOC declared. Immediately, he was escorted into Surgery-I, and made comfortable in the Dental Chair.

“I’m just going to give you a small shot sir, it shouldn’t hurt at all.” Capt. Srinivas said cheerily.

“I should certainly hope not.” the G.O.C informed him.

The injection loaded with local-anesthetic trembled slightly in the Captain’s hand. After a deep breath, he proceeded to administer the Lidocaine.

The G.O.C merely grunted and calmly closed his eyes.

“I’d prefer it if you kept your eyes open, sir, it helps to gauge reaction.” Capt. Srinivas said, a bit warily.

There was no response and the eyes shut even tighter.

Injection finished, the Captain moved to pick up the new pair of German Forceps he had had rushed in.

The G.O.C opened his eyes wide this time, stared at the polished steel and quietly reverted to his mother tongue.

A shudder passed through the Captain’s thin frame.

A few deft rotations later, a bit of traction and the tooth was out. Like a proud father, Captain Srinivas held up the bloodied forceps holding an equally bloody molar in its beaks, covered with bits of tissue and a few spicules of bone, for the G.O.C to see. It was precisely at this point that things began to go rapidly downhill.

The G.O.C took one look at the gore being thrust towards him and fought back a fresh wave of nausea and decided the best thing to do was to go ahead and faint. A few moments later Captain Srinivas burst out of the surgery and told the Attendant, “I think I’ve made the G.O.C unconscious.” And then promptly collapsed.

15mins later, in the Recovery Room, both the G.O.C and Captain Srinivas gazed at each other solemnly from neighboring beds. Neither spoke, but both were united in thought.

They had, each realized, made quite an impression on the other.

By,
Dinesh Francis