Post by Dr. Karate on Jul 3, 2007 15:37:59 GMT -5
Dr. Karate leaned back on the swivel chair in his office, a phone to the side of his head.
"What do you mean, you can't get one? No, I'm not lining up with the hippies at some Apple store. Hippies can so afford the iPhone. Most of 'em make a mint selling ice cream or soap made from their own body hair. Look, Jason, if you can't get me an iPhone, then you're off the list for the party on Saturday. Now don't cry... Hang on, Jason."
A peroxide-blonde walked into the office wearing a tight skirt that came halfway down to her knee, and a light blue blouse.
"Here's that file you want, Mr.--"
"Doctor," Karate corrected, trying to fight a look of disdain that crept across his face. "It's doctor. Always doctor."
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, and handed him the sheaf of papers. She turned to leave, but Karate's raised hand stopped her.
"And if you're going to be wearing a shirt that sheer, don't wear a black bra underneath. It looks cheap."
"Sorry, Dr. Karate. I usually don't wear a bra, but I've never worked in an owffice before."
Karate cringed at her accent, but forced a smile and dismissed her with a wave. After he had watched her butt swish out of the room, he turned his attention back to the phone.
"Ok, Jason. Are we clear on this? No, I don't care what it costs. If you don't have an iPhone in your pocket, don't bother showing up on Saturday."
Karate nodded mutely at the phone for several seconds, then signed off and tossed it onto its cradle. He thought for a few seconds, then picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and waited.
"Denise, it's the good doctor. Have you got any plans for Saturday? Well, cancel them. Are you kidding, only the biggest party this town has seen in months. The illustrious Dr. Karate is stepping back into the wrestling ring. Oh, some dirt fed in Alberta."
He pulled open a file drawer in front of him and began fingering through the files.
"It's a province in Canada, you know, that plucky pre-annexed state of the union. Free health care, liberal drug laws, wacky ideas like that. Well, it's no Vegas, but it won't be such a trial. No, I'll be flying back and forth, but I'm going to have to put my practice on hold for the most part."
He found the file folder he was looking for and dropped it onto the desk. It fell open, revealing photos, x-rays, and filled-in medical forms.
"Now, I remember you talking about wanting an upgrade before too long. Well, if you want to move up to that..." He flipped up a photo and examined the one underneath. "... triple-D set you had your eye on, well now's the time. Well, think it over, and I'll take a look at the girls on Saturday to see how they're breaking in."
Karate nodded impatiently, waiting for the person on the end of the line to finish what they were saying, and signed off. After hanging up the phone, he pulled two glossy photos out of the file, one marked 'before', and the other marked 'after'.
Karate smiled to himself, "God, I do good work."
"What do you mean, you can't get one? No, I'm not lining up with the hippies at some Apple store. Hippies can so afford the iPhone. Most of 'em make a mint selling ice cream or soap made from their own body hair. Look, Jason, if you can't get me an iPhone, then you're off the list for the party on Saturday. Now don't cry... Hang on, Jason."
A peroxide-blonde walked into the office wearing a tight skirt that came halfway down to her knee, and a light blue blouse.
"Here's that file you want, Mr.--"
"Doctor," Karate corrected, trying to fight a look of disdain that crept across his face. "It's doctor. Always doctor."
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, and handed him the sheaf of papers. She turned to leave, but Karate's raised hand stopped her.
"And if you're going to be wearing a shirt that sheer, don't wear a black bra underneath. It looks cheap."
"Sorry, Dr. Karate. I usually don't wear a bra, but I've never worked in an owffice before."
Karate cringed at her accent, but forced a smile and dismissed her with a wave. After he had watched her butt swish out of the room, he turned his attention back to the phone.
"Ok, Jason. Are we clear on this? No, I don't care what it costs. If you don't have an iPhone in your pocket, don't bother showing up on Saturday."
Karate nodded mutely at the phone for several seconds, then signed off and tossed it onto its cradle. He thought for a few seconds, then picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and waited.
"Denise, it's the good doctor. Have you got any plans for Saturday? Well, cancel them. Are you kidding, only the biggest party this town has seen in months. The illustrious Dr. Karate is stepping back into the wrestling ring. Oh, some dirt fed in Alberta."
He pulled open a file drawer in front of him and began fingering through the files.
"It's a province in Canada, you know, that plucky pre-annexed state of the union. Free health care, liberal drug laws, wacky ideas like that. Well, it's no Vegas, but it won't be such a trial. No, I'll be flying back and forth, but I'm going to have to put my practice on hold for the most part."
He found the file folder he was looking for and dropped it onto the desk. It fell open, revealing photos, x-rays, and filled-in medical forms.
"Now, I remember you talking about wanting an upgrade before too long. Well, if you want to move up to that..." He flipped up a photo and examined the one underneath. "... triple-D set you had your eye on, well now's the time. Well, think it over, and I'll take a look at the girls on Saturday to see how they're breaking in."
Karate nodded impatiently, waiting for the person on the end of the line to finish what they were saying, and signed off. After hanging up the phone, he pulled two glossy photos out of the file, one marked 'before', and the other marked 'after'.
Karate smiled to himself, "God, I do good work."