"There's nothing wrong with you that
an expensive operation can't prolong."
-- Monty Python's
Flying Circus, Surgeon (Graham Chapman) to Mr. Notlob
(Michael Palin)
I woke up on the operating table. There
was a massive gash down my abdomen, and surgically masked figures were
poking about in my innards.
"Yikes!" I screamed. "Where am I? What's going
on? Who are you?"
Then, taking the obvious into account, "The
anesthetic has worn off! Do
something!"
The guy who seemed to be the head chopper eyed me
down a nose that looked like a beak.
"We are
doing something," he said condescendingly. "We're saving your
life. And there isn't any anesthetic. Anesthetic is for
wimps."
"But ... I was unconscious," I sputtered. Then
it started coming back. "Oh, yes. I was accosted on the
street by two thugs, who beat me senseless. I hope the police
have them in custody!"
"Not thugs," said the head guy briefly. "My
assistants." Two of the masked figures waved and lowered their
masks briefly to display friendly smiles.
"I'm Dr. Merganser," said the head chopper.
"Say, isn't 'merganser' a kind of duck?" I asked.
"What of it?" I seemed to have ruffled his
feathers.
"Anyway," he quacked, "we had to save you. It
was the only way."
"Save me?" I babbled. "From what?"
"From your awful, unethical doctor," said Dr.
Merganser. "He was prescribing incorrect medicines and unnecessary
surgeries and overcharging you."
"He was?" I had never had a surgery until that
very moment. "Um, say, where's my wallet?"
"We had to appropriate that, along with all your
other assets," said Dr. Merganser. "To pay for this life-saving
surgery. Only fair, you know."
"But you can't seize my assets," I objected.
"Sure I can." Dr. Merganser waved a document
under my nose. "Forged power of attorney. It's all
perfectly legal."
"Now, just one minute ...," I began, but Dr.
Merganser cut me off. So to speak.
"You'll have to be quiet now so that we can get on
with this delicate cancer surgery."
"What?" I screeched. "I don't have cancer!"
"No? Oh, that's right. This is the heart
transplant."
"No! No!" I screamed. "My heart is fine!
Or it was until a few moments
ago..."
"Hmm." The doctor was thoughtful for a
moment. "Right! We don't have a replacement heart,
anyway. No, this is all about sexual function."
"Sexual function?" I gasped incredulously. "What do you know about my sexual function?"
"I know that you desperately need to have a
successful erection," replied Dr. Merganser. "Nurse Bubbles!
Strip!"
For the first time I noticed his unusually
voluptuous assistant. She was doing as the doctor ordered.
"Aha!" crowed Dr. Merganser. "There you are!
It's an historic erection! That ought to shut up all the critics!"
"Oh, you have critics?" I asked unnecessarily.
Dr. Merganser and his staff were dancing around,
hooting, high-fiving, and howling, "Success! Success!"
"What on earth are you on about?" I sobbed. "What
kind of success is this? How does it change the facts that you
beat me and kidnapped me off the street and stole everything I
had? Or that you cut me open without anesthetic and keep poking
around in my organs as if you'd lost a contact lens?"
"It was an historic erection," Dr. Merganser
intoned. Then he whispered, "Who told him about the contact lens?"
"Get out
of me!" I shrieked.
"What!? Leave now?" Dr. Merganser looked
shocked. "We can't pull out while we're up to our elbows in
gore! How would it look? What would people say?
Anyway, you would die!"
"I'm dying now!"
I countered.
"But slowly, and under supervision," Dr. Merganser
pointed out.
"Well, ... how about the erection? You said
that was a success. Doesn't that make it all right for you to get
out?"
"An historic erection!" Dr. Merganser looked
heavenward, as though having a religious experience. Then he
dropped his eyes to my innards again. "Nope," he said. "I'm
having too much fun here."