White coats
Dr. Spew coughed up a greenish yellow rope of lung filth and spat it onto the unswept floor. His hand was shaking slightly as he poked the button before him. "Yes doctor?", the receptionist asked. "Have any patients kept their appointments yet today?" "No doc, the office is empty, one person nearly came in but the quarantine sign the government placed in front of the building seems to have put her off." "Well go ahead a take your lunch break, I'll handle the calls". Bored, horny and with no patients to abuse, it was about time to take his business elsewhere, perhaps the Third World. He began fishing through his mail. Lots of packets of this and that from pharmaceutical companies wanting more business. He found a mood-altering mediscene that promised to turn suicidal depression into a bright sun-shiny day. Seven pills inside. He crushed them into a fine powder with a mortar and pestal and snorted eight lines of the pink powder. There also was a sleep aid called Dream Repressor 4oo and a couple different kinds of sexual pleasure enhancing IV tubes that offered side effects of potentially vivid hallucinations and wild hilarity. All that ingested he made his way to the VCR, tugging the IV tube with him. Something to watch while waiting for "the posion to kick in", as he liked to tell screaming children when he had them in the med room alone. Here was a candid video of his last four patients getting abused this way and that. Mr. Askin's near death by gagging when Spew put that tongue depressor in his mouth. This medical tool stank badly from the many diseased throats it had explored it was so sticky it got stuck there. Spew watched that one and the one of the lady coming in to see if she was pregnant, passing out from the last daterape drug he had on hand and leaving with Spew's personal promise that she in fact was pregnant. "He he he," he giggled not just from that flick but also involutarily from the mediscene taking effect. The volatile combo of new head drugs bouncing off each other in his brain had really sent things askew. He leaned to grab a sip of cold coffee and flipped over his desk, laying in a heap on the other side, gasping and wheezing mixed with his giggles. He began to crawl twitchingly to the bath room as a sudden strong sickness clutched at his belly. But he ended up in the reception room instead, with its custom chairs with restraining belts for scared children. It was a good thing that receptionist, what was her name?, was out on lunch hour. That would give him sixty minutes probably more to crawl back inside his office. But this time he crashed through the window dazed and cut from broken glass he found himself sprawled on the sidewalk and feeling hornier than ever. He laughed and laughed as he fished for his zipper and found only brick wall and a couple of passerbys asses. Trying not to cause to much more commotion he stood up unsteadily and drunkenly walked towards the alley between his run down clinic and the Vietnamease grocery store next door. Now in the relative concealment of the shadowy alley, he renewed his quest for his zipper, his mind swirling between depression and enlightenment. His hand brushed his crotch one, twice and the zipper was in his hand as last. Just in time here comes a lady out of the grocery store he can leer at as he pumps his lump. Only thing was that as he pulled out the nasty red and peeling penis he caught it snuggly in the awkward zipper and howled thinly in pain and a distant hint of pleasure. He tried a few forshortened attempts at freeing himself. He should have taken some painkillers with the grab bag, then he could just rip himself free and worry about it tommorow. Too late the lady was gone. He slinked around back to let himself in the emergency exit. Some times being a doctor is a thankless task, Spew thought as he reeled inside and passed out in a unused storage closet.