Regular Show Temp Check Novels & Stories

His sudden movement wakes the Don. “Cutie pie?” he calls him with a frail voice. Denver’s heart would like to skip a beat. “C-Can I c-check you?” he stutters when Angelito looks at him, and his body is shivering. “Uhmm….” He hums in agreement with his words. Denver’s hand hesitates to touch his forehead, but his intuition pushes him to do it. “You have a fever!” Luckily, there’s a thermometer inside the medicine kit. Denver swiftly checks his body temperature and patiently waits for its result.

The fact my soul just left my body? Bree? Any ideas? (No clue.) Roundy? Roundy don’t you dare ghost me right now, I swear I’ll break character and start screaming. {He means temperature, you absolute donut. His temp is running high.} Oh. Temperature. Right. Medical. Professional. I clear my throat so hard I nearly choke. “Yes, Kael. Your temperature is… uh… XX degrees. Pretty hot. We should probably call a doctor.” Silence. Then he laughs.

Chapter Two: Locker Room Static The locker room reeked of old sweat, Bengay, and panic. Jax slumped onto the bench, elbows braced on his knees, head hanging low. The medic some kid who looked barely old enough to shave hovered like a nervous gnat, pressing a cold pack to the back of Jax’s neck as if ice could fix whatever the hell his body was doing. “Temperature’s one-oh-two point eight,” the kid muttered, checking the thermometer again like it might rethink its life choices. “That’s not normal post-hit. You sure you didn’t take anything? Supplements? New pre-workout?”

her mother asks, eyebrow arched like a quizzical caterpillar’s. "Just a quick bathroom break," Winter replies. "Okay, but don't dawdle," her mother instructs. "The doctor said I need to check your temperature." ~~~~ WINTER SHUFFLES INTO THE LIVING room, feeling as though she’s walking through molasses. Her mother raises a thermometer, and Winter opens her mouth obediently as her mother pokes it it. As Winter settles onto the couch, the television flickers on. Her mother retrieves the thermometer minutes later and peers at the reading, making a disapproving noise. "Hmph. 37.5°C. Your temperature’s a bit elevated. I’ll fetch a towel and some water for a tepid sponge bath while we wait for the

I looked at the boy and said, "Can you please check the temperature of this man sitting on the stairs? He looks a bit ill to me" He gave me an are-you-serious look while my instinct was to roll my eyes, but nodded at him. He shrugged and kept a hand on Mark's forehead and then on his neck while Mark pushed his hand away, looking pissed. He asked, "What the hell are you trying to do?" "Chill, man! Your girl told me to do it," he said, raising his hands in surrender. I ignored both of them and asked, "Was his temperature normal?" "Yes, absolutely, except for the fact that he is fuming right now," he answered. Am I supposed to be worried then?

I chuckle, "I am too old for that. Don't worry so much, I'll be fine, you've done enough." "Yeah right." She says as she stands beside me. "I'll say get in bed but you won't listen to me." I stare hard at her face. Isn't she supposed to be angry? She looks away as our eyes meet and her cheeks redden. "You should probably take a cold shower too. Your body temperature is pretty high." I shrug, "This is normal. It should return to normal in a few hours." "Hours?" She asks, horrified. "Yeah," I say and turn to look at the door.

He glared at me before he finally replied after staying silent for quite some time. "I do have one, but what are you gonna do with it?" Seriously, was that a question? I chuckled. "To check your body temperature, of course." He sighed, seemingly defeated. "Check that box over there." A smile curved up my lips. I stood and walked over to the box he pointed at. I took out the thermometer and checked his temperature. Holy shit! 39 degrees Celsius...

he says bitterly. "What are some of your symptoms?" "I've got a headache, I'm always tired and I've been throwing up all night." "I'll do a few checks like take your temperature and your blood pressure." Nathan sits on the bed on the other side of the relatively small room and has to hold a thermometer in his mouth for a while as she lifts his shirt to listen to his heart. "Your heart rate is normal, nothing to worry about there," she takes the thermometer out of Nathan's mouth and checks the little screen, "39 degrees Celsius. That's almost a high fever."

Arielle was checking Maverick's temperature with her palm on his forehead. "Is he running a temperature?" I asked, concern etched on my face. I felt worry flood my system as I looked at Maverick, who looked like he was still shaken by the incident. She shook her head. "Fortunately, no. He's just still shaken up a bit." I nodded, relief washing over me. I squatted to be on eye level with Maverick. I placed his tiny palm in mine. "You'll be fine, okay? You're a strong boy, remember?"

A few minutes later, he returned and, seeing that I hadn’t moved, took a jacket from the wardrobe himself and draped it over my shoulders. I had no idea which clinic he was taking me to, but this part of the city was unfamiliar. They put me through every procedure imaginable: blood drawn from a vein and a finger, an ultrasound, blood pressure measurements, then even an X-ray. To top it all off, the doctor decided to check my temperature—and gasped. Egor followed me around like a bodyguard and, hearing the doctor’s reaction, asked, “What did you see there?” “Her temperature is extremely high. I’ll ask the lab to speed up the results since the other examinations didn’t show anything.”