You creep around the corner of the kidney, and there you see it, a throbbing gelatinous evil blob of tissue. You've fought this beast before. You bring your scalpel down and it screams. You grab it with the forceps so it can't wriggle out of reach and stab it again, cramming its protesting pieces into separate cassettes, so it can't reform vampire style.
Sighing, you resheath your blade in the curiously inefficient "safety" device used for them and take a deep breath. "Looks like I just blocked *your* flow", you say smirking, as hot lab ladies flock to your sides.
The next morning... the hearing... you're hungover... those ladies wouldn't entertain themselves after all, and with gams up to where their gams go, well, you don't tell em no. Still, no reason to ruin a good day. You stroll up to the corralled kidney tumor and throw its body under a microscope, give its family a good funeral, give a little lesson to is brothers... but wait... your blurry vision clears... you clean the scope.
That's not your tumor. It's a stranger. You look through the books on em, maybe bluff him a bit. Yeah, tumor. We know about you. We know about your brother. You're rare huh? Must be sitting here thinking you're pretty badass. So rare that the dregs down at county won't know what to do with you eh? I tell ya what, punk? I put condor eggs in my gin fizzes. That give you an idea what I think of rare? I spat in his face. You make me sick. And you're going down. I stormed out of the lab, before he could see he was getting to me.
As I brushed through the doors, the secretaries hastily fought for my arms. "Don't go!", they were flapping. The dames could wait. I had a book to read.
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1 comment:
I wait with bated breath for part II.
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