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The Queen Elizabeth Hospital London, morphed from its steady stream of organised chaos to an explosion of manic mayhem. The emergency waiting room spilled over with ragging drunks, slurring urban expletives, each new arrival through the automatic glass doors caused ferment amongst the deluge. Standing room only as closing time violence bled out from every facial orifice. Stab wounds and glass cuts, head butts and blood-matted hair. The bulk of the casualties, scarcely clad, binge drunken, teen girls, barely off the playground. Variations of "never again," spluttered between multi-coloured, sick splashes. Blusterous turmoil, reminiscent of the after mouth of some major disaster, but in the eyes of those who worked there, this is business as usual on a Saturday. So at that time of night it was easy for him to freely skulk along the cluttered and disinfected hospital corridors, past the half-comatose Hospital staff at the end of a double shift. In fact, nobody noticed him shuffle and sway into a brightly lit, private room, on the second floor. His face hidden under a mass of wild blac...

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