Wednesday, 30 December 2009

I believe I do, in fact, have an alibi

The doctor turned away from me, consulting my chart with a look of grim concentration, or perhaps constipation. I can never tell which is which, and as a result, am no longer welcome in libraries.
 After a few seconds, he turned back towards me, shaking his head even more grimly.
 "I'm sorry sir, but these tests clearly show you're ugly."
Clearly, I was being set up for some sort of unfunny joke by some sort of teenager, writing about my ridiculous life. I was having none of it, and decided to react normally.
 "No, I'm not." I replied firmly.
 It's true. I mean, I'm certainly not the most attractive man out there, but I'm not grotesque. I can look alright in a certain light, and my mother always told me I was very handsome. Further still, the doctor was a rather fearsome gargoyle. He had a growth spurting from his nose that resembled, frankly, another nose, and the rolls of fat around his neck made it look like he was being swallowed by a sea of... rolls of neck fat. He was also wearing a hideous Christmas jumper under his white lab coat, which completed the look.
 "I'm sorry, there's only one solution." As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and withdrew an aged revolver.
 Ah, I though, here comes the joke. Something implying my face would look better if it was blown off with a handgun. Which it wouldn't, really.
 "I'm going to have to shoot..."
 "Me in the face." I interrupted. I was getting rather pissed off at this whole waste of time. After all, I have places to be. Exciting places. Warm places. Maybe I have to go to Tahiti, you never know.
 "No, of course not sir. That's medically ridiculous," He laughed. "We just need to kill everyone more attractive than you!"
 With that, he spun on his heel and shot the attractive nurse in the corner (her location in the scene) in the face (where she was shot). Laughing manically, he ran out of the room, and into the corridor. The sounds of gunfire and screaming filled the hallway.
 Sighing, I put on my jacket, and prepared to leave. As I did so, I wondered how I'd even got here. I didn't remember making an appointment, let alone leaving my home and travelling here.
Where do I go when no-one is reading me?

2 comments:

Lauren said...

I loved this, Paul. It's a great commentary on how stupid doctors can be. I once sat facing an overweight doctor, who chastised me for not exercising and then handed me a living will. I filled out the living will but changed doctors. Great piece! I'm adding you to my link list on my blog.

Paul Blanchard said...

Thanks, done the same for yours. I also created a list of links for just this purpose. You shouldn't feel honoured, but I'm going to demand you do. :)

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