Star and Marco vs Evil Book 2

XII

Possible spoilers between the ⭐🦋 and 🦋⭐.

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Star and Marco stood on the sidewalk outside a nondescript building in Dublin, California. A sign above the door read "Crazy Cavalier Clinic."

"Okay, so now 'The 3C' makes sense ... but what does 'cavalier' mean?" Star asked.

"I think," Marco replied, "in this context it means 'an honorable and courteous soldier.' I think it's meant to be humorous, and I'm not used to medical people having senses of humor. They tend to be dour and joyless, that's how you know they're doctors."

"Not on Mewni."

"Yeah, well, Mewni's idea of advanced medicine is loading a being with mental health issues into a catapult and flipping them away."

"True."

"It's unusual, but I guess I like it, it's cheeky." Marco pinched a butt cheek of Star's as he said "cheeky." She shoved him. "I think you're actually getting stronger," Marco said, as he regained his balance.

Marco took a deep breath. "Well, they came highly recommended, and located in the middle of all these military bases they're probably quite experienced, so ... shall we?"

Marco offered his hand, which Star took. "As Janna says, 'to infinity; and beyond!'"

Marco rolled his eyes as the two teens entered the building.

Five minutes later, they were sitting on a couch in a small room, waiting for the psychiatrist. Above the door as they entered was the sign "Judgment Free Zone," which Star, in particular, found comforting. The room was sparse, painted in neutral tones, with pleasant, nondescript, paintings. There were no photographs or medals or any military mementos or regalia. Marco found that strange at first, but then realized that when dealing with "battle fatigue," PTSD, or other service-related psychological issues, such reminders might not be a good idea.

A knock came at the door, then a woman entered. She was tall, fit, and a bit past middle age. Her graying hair was in a short, military, cut, and she had a prominent scar along her right jawline. Star and Marco stood as she entered.

"No, no; no need to stand, I'm not an officer any longer and ... you two are way too young to have been in the military, anyway."

"Well, Marco here was a Commander General."

"Really," the woman said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes," Marco added, feeling strangely reticent, "it's roughly equivalent to a division commander."

"I see. Please, sit." Star and Marco sat, as the doctor took a seat across from them. As the doctor sat, Star realized she was missing her left middle finger. The doctor noticed Star staring.

"I lost it in battle," the woman said.

"Coooool," Star replied, almost bouncing off the couch.

"Yeah, I stuck my hand out from where I'd taken cover and flipped the bird at the enemy, and a sniper shot the finger off. Rather stupid of me, but, you know, kids. My colonel didn't know whether to award me the Purple Heart or bring me up on charges for dereliction of duty. I think that's when I started developing my admittedly macabre sense of humor around battle casualties."

The doctor shifted in her seat, her bearing making it clear it was time to get down to business. "I'm Doctor Trudy North, former soldier and medic, multiple tours, and forever an army brat. Please call me Trudy. You filled out the online forms, so you know my medical credentials and experience. I still need to put names to faces, though ... who might the two of you be?"