Great News
Nurse comes out of seemingly nowhere, approaches, and says, "The doctor will see you now."
Niles followed him down a carpeted hallway, noticing the tattoos of Asian letterings and runes on the back of his thick flabby neck. "Should I get undressed,' Niles asked upon entering the exam room. "No,' the nurse answered, "the doctor called you in for a conference."
"What the hell is a conference?" he thought to himself. The doctor came in, a burly, athletic old cuss. He started out with something happy and irrelevant, to put his patient at ease. "My grandson just earned his Ph.D in world cultures. We're having a celebration for him later today at the Cheesy Valley Racket Club. You ever been there?"
Of course Niles had never been here. He wasn't completely brain deficient. He knew this was something rich people do to make poor people think they are in the same picture frame. "Uh, no," Niles answered, trying to sound sociable. The doctor went on as if it was possible for Niles to join the Country Club. Niles wondered if this was a form of calculated mental abuse taught at expensive universities. "You'd like it. They have beautiful tennis and squash courts at the Racket Club."
Niles was getting annoyed, and he wondered if it was because of some secret set of rules and methods. "Mr. Groper," the doctor continued, "you have mentallary thyroid cancer, and it isn't like a flash drive that we can pull out in a hot second."
"That's great," Niles said. "Sounds like my thyroid earned it's ass a Ph.D."
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