Tuesday, April 7, 2015

A Quickie...




I never heard a story like this before. I kid you not. This is a paraphrased telephone conversation I heard about this morning.

The Actors:

Dr. Darden: An oncologist that specializes in cancers of kidney, bladder and urethra. Apparently the best in his field.

Worst Patient. A smarty who was trained by Holy Cross Jesuit priests in lawyering, Officer Candidate school, by the Naval Intelligence Command and a career as a commander. Add to that career that brought him to every country except Nepal and speaking damn near five languages. No dummy he is.

**

Act 1:

Dr. Darden: “You know, I take a loss when I do Medicare patients like you. And now you're telling me you're not going to pay your portion of that bill? Gee, thanks. By the way, you're entirely welcome for my curing you of that cancer which was surely killing you.”

Worst Patient: “Curing? You infected me with with your filthy instruments! Why should I pay you for incompetence? I might have had better results with a wire brush and some Clorox!”

Dr. Darden: “THAT, was a nosocomial infection, which are common in hospital settings...I ended up curing that too if you remember? Which I might add, I had NO help from you. You blew off half my suggestions and took the ones you wanted. What? Did you think you cured yourself by ignoring known treatments that work?”

Worst Patient: “Ahh. Fuck you, you quack!”

Dr. Darden: “Fuck me?.....FUCK YOU!”

(Simultaneously slam phones down on both ends)


End of Act 1 and End of the Scene:  

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