I watched an episode of Baywatch on the beach today. There were the lithe and lovely young bodies in red shorts, a body washed up on the beach, the lifeguards’ base up on stilts, and all manner of medical equipment spilling out of The Hunk’s back pack as he came skidding to a halt at the scene of the disaster.
Being a fan of medical dramas, I am familiar with the ensuing live-saving procedures. The kiss of life is administered by a young blonde lady, the body is placed in the rescue position. Still no response. They try pumping the heart into activity. Still no response. I’m thinking they should intubate (they always intubate in ER) but, no, they continue to take turns at the pumping. I realise the seriousness of the situation when The Hunk tells them to stop and shakes his head mournfully. Omigod.
At which, the body’s life breath hisses out through a small hole in the top of his head and he is rolled up into a ball small enough to fit in The Hunk’s back pack. Why do I feel cheated?