Tucked away in a corner of the bustling markets of the Lower Decks of Rivet City was a clinic creatively named "the Clinic". It was said behind the sheet metal walls lived a cynical demon who care little about life yet could preform miracles. He didn't care if you lived or died or was crippled for life, he just wanted to get paid. And that one snarky, snarky demon doctor had a name, Odysseus.

"Alright, get your ass on a bed before I weld you to it. I'll be over in a second." Odysseus didn't even look up from his little chemistry set as a gunshot victim stumbled into the building.
"I-I wa-was up on t-the d-deck and s-s-someone to-took a p-potshot at m-", the man blubbered on.
"Shut it and get your ass on a bed." the doctor gave the man a sideways death stare, "Don't tell that to me, go bitch about it to the head of security."

Obediently, the man collapsed on to one of the four beds, divided with old shower curtains and poorly made quilts. The beds themselves were patchwork cloth stuffed with grass or shreds of other soft things on a mix of wooden crates and a dentist seat Odysseus managed to dig up on his travels (he called it the "luxury chair"). Odysseus's desk where he did paper work and mixed up chems was right in front of all the beds, a filing cabinet leaning against the counter.

"Now, let's see what kind of stupidity you managed to inflict upon yourself today." the doctor got out of his chair and walked towards the man, pulling a makeshift lamp on wheels over to see.

The wound was from a .32 caliber round judging by the hole it left, most likely a raider having some target practice. The wound itself seemed to have travelled a while, made a nasty hole but not all the deep, just above the liver. A quick fix ought to repair the wound, but not the man's stupidity.

He pulled out a bottle of fine vodka, the kind that'd knock you out in a few sips, and pours a bit on the man's wound. Ignoring the man's pained voice, Odysseus summoned forth a syringe of Med-X and shot it next to the hole; a pair of tweezers came from the dark depths of a medical table and began digging into the human body. Bits of blood and skin came out, only to be sponged by a piece of (arguably) clean cloth. Soon enough, the bit of metal bullet decided to get out and clinked to the ground.

"There you go, want to keep this as a sunveior to show your mother how strong and brave you are?" Odysseus half-mocked as he wrapped a bandage around the man, drawing a smily face after he was done.

However, the man did not respond, turns out Odysseus didn't give enough Med-X and the man passed out from the pain. Oh well, they say that people need time to rest after surgery anyways, might as well do it now. The doctor turned away from the man and returned to his chemistry work, in a few hours he would either wake the man up or throw him back out. Ahh what a wonderful life.