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“Alright, folks,” Dr. McCoy announced to the blue clad beings before him. “You all know the routine. Yesterday was the big winter festival party on board the Enterprise. The official party, as per usual, was over by 2200 ship's time and the only alcohol being officially served was synthahol. However, as per usual, the eggnog was spiked with rum someone got last shoreleave, other booze was also floating around, and the Engineering Hooch was flowing. The 'after party' also didn't end until,” he took out his communicator and looked at it, “... it may still be going on, for some people, at least. OK, we're about to get hangovers and contusions, at the least, alcohol poisoning and broken hands and noses at the worst. Everyone, it's going to be a long day, but a productive day, and, as with every year, we will get our own enjoyment. Nurse Chapel?”
“Here are the rules,” the blonde nurse took over as she passed out everyone's PADDs. “Each patient that you log is your patient. They are not to be turned over to someone else unless it's not party related and you really do need Dr. McCoy. Not a one of you are students, you can handle anything that's thrown your way. There will be no 'mental triageing' and taking a different patient because they look easier; you take the one that comes in when it's your turn. The PADDs are now putting you each in a random order.”
“Get in line based on the order the PADDs have assigned you,” McCoy continued. “As each patient crosses the threshold, check them in, record their symptoms and insist on the full story of how they came to be so inebriated and/or injured.”
“The person who treats the most patients gets out of inventory!” Nurse Chapel announced to applause. “The top three best stories, to be determined by Dr. McCoy on criteria only he knows, will get out of the next round of crew immunizations.”
“And don't forget,” McCoy added. “If even one patient does not get the full, proper, medical care, as per my standards, we will stop the contest and it will never be held again. OK, folks, good... god, man, what happened to you? Never mind, Nurse Johnson will see to you.”
Ignoring the limping Ensign that Lt. Chekov had just brought in, supporting most of his weight, McCoy made a beeline for his office door, locking it and ordering the windows on privacy.
“Ah, good,” he said to the grinning man across the desk from him, “you brought breakfast.”
“Coffee refill?” Jim asked, holding up a carafe from their quarters.
“Don't mind if I do.”
“So, you did this last year, too?”
“Yep.”
“That's genius.”
“You know what's really genius?”
“What?”
“Barring an emergency, they'll leave me alone all day.”
“Really?” Jim leered at his husband.
“Yep,” Leonard wiped his mouth, moved his empty tray from his desk, and leaned over to haul the other man on top of the now cleared surface. “And tomorrow, we're going to have a bunch of hilarious stories to enjoy. Now get your clothes off.”
“Yes, sir, Dr. McCoy, sir.”
The End