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Dr Pickles - The Mob Doctor | Started by: Dr_Pickles on Sep 29, '12 03:59 |
A young Dr. Pickles graduates from medical school. He walks across stage and trades in his cap and gown for a lab coat and stethoscope. He goes to the nearest strip club to pick up a couple of the hottest girls who’ve been “working their way through nursing school” and sets up a private practice. That’s when there was a knock at the door!
(Don’t you like how I skip all the messy prologue and get straight to the action?)
In walk Vaticus and Whitey. Vaticus sits down across from Dr. Pickles’ desk and begins mumbling. “Inedhlp. Icnttlk. Mppldntstndme.”
Whitey looks troubled and starts pleading with Dr. Pickles. “We can’t understand a word he says! We don’t know what to do at the HQ! We thought he wanted us to rearrange the furniture and put out a hit on Eepster! All he wanted was scrambled eggs! We’ve tried a chalkboard so he can write us notes, but he can’t read his handwriting! He wrote he wanted a scotch, neat, but we ended up shaving a bagpiper! This is terrible! You have to help us, Dr. Pickles!”
(didja notice how my name appeared in my story again?)
Dr. Pickles puts his stethoscope to his ears and starts listening to Vaticus’ forehead.
“Aren’t you supposed to listen to his heart beat?” asked Whitey.
Pickles takes the earpieces out and sternly points at his diploma. “Which one of us in the room has our PhD from the prestigious 47 Enterprises Correspondence School of Medicine at Aruba?” Whitey hangs his head in shame for questioning the great Dr. Pickles. “That’s what I thought!” Pickles consults his physicians pop-up desk reference, making sure to avoid the chapter on male anatomy after that unfortunate incident last time.
“Aha!” Exclaimed Dr. Pickles. “It’s just as I thought. Vaticus has a horrible case of happy tongue . . . Here . . . take these tongue depressors. He’ll be fine in no time.”
(What? Were you all expecting M*A*S*H?) |
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Sitting behind her desk Innocence read Dr_Pickles business card and hoped he could help her with a little problem. The Godfather picked up her phone and called the number on the card. The call was answered by a secretary with a cheerful voice, as if being a secretary was the best job in the world. |
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Reply by: Innocence at Sep 29, '12 18:58 | |
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Dr. PICKLES answers the phone.
"Greetings, Innoncence. First, please stop calling me 47. Secondly, I'm a medical doctor, not a child psychologist. However, never discount the necessity of a good accountant in the family. What with Hoover and his men checking everyone's financials, it might be a good idea to have someone who can cook your books and launder your money. Cooking and laundry aren't just for women anymore."
Pickles hangs up the phone and lights a cigarette (because they're not unhealthy yet) and wonders why people insist on calling him 47. |
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Reply by: Dr_Pickles at Sep 29, '12 21:08 | |
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wtf |
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Reply by: Rangerz at Sep 30, '12 05:15 | |
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Eepster wrapped her hand with a towel and punched in the back door of the doctor's office. She needed bandaids and fast! Maybe she'd pick up some drugs on the way out to sell in her favorite back alley. The glass shattered around her hand and fluttered to her feet. Which would have been excellent if she could slow motion her vision, in the darkness and normal speed, it didn't look so cool. The sound however, she liked the sharpness to it. Breaking glass, Eepster thought to herself and grinned as she turned the nob from the inside and let herself in. |
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Reply by: Eepster at Oct 02, '12 23:13 | |
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Mr. I mean doctor pickles. I need help. Im considering suicide. |
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Reply by: BigEasy at Oct 04, '12 06:16 | |
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If i had your number i would call. Im so alone in this world. I blame you for the loss of my life, doctor pickles. I leave all of my 1000$ to the city of New Orleans. |
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Reply by: BigEasy at Oct 04, '12 06:20 | |
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I have a strange desire for fries, I blame Dr Pickles for this. |
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Reply by: Ragnarok at Oct 04, '12 09:00 | |
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Dr. Pickles shakes his head sadly. "I am a MEDICAL doctor! You can't just come to me like some Psychiatric Helpdesk, expecting to pay me 5 cents! And, the church views suicide as a deadly sin!" Pickles then turns his attention to the intruder in his office. He walks up on Eepster . . . "I apologize for the sniffing, but I'm a sucker for Channel No. 5, and it smells so lovely on you . . . it's like spreading a wonderful olfactory glow almost as sensual as a neon light. Now, come back to my office, and we'll have a few belts of Wild Turkey, or perhaps something else if you'd like, and we can figure out why Vaticus is trying to use his influence to send you to Davy Jones' Locker! If I have to, I can find you safety living in an old windmill in Holland with my cousin Augurk, who hs a bunny farm. Dr. Pickles looks Eepster over (professionally, at least that's the excuse) and notices she has a bruised knuckle. "Have you been defending yourself with fisticuffs? You can't just throw punches at these bruisers Vatticus is trying to send your way! You won't get any justice that way! You need a blackjack or some brass knuckles or something. Then, you could punch those suckers all the way to Neptune and cause some serious mayhem to their faces! It's feel like amageddon happened to their noses, and when they come to, they'll ask "Where am I?" Dr. Pickles opens a drawer and gives Eepster some brass knuckles for her defense. "Here, take these!" Eepster punches him in the face and he flies over his desk into a heap on the floor! "Ouch! What the hell?" "Sorry!" Eepster exclaims. "I was just trying them out!" |
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Reply by: Dr_Pickles at Oct 04, '12 23:16 | |
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Sorry! |
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Reply by: Eepster at Oct 05, '12 18:27 | |
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Dr. Pickles pulls a syringe out of his lab coat and stabs Eepster in the thigh, and fills her blood-stream with a powerful sedative - DickGozinya's Seducer 5000! Knowing she's now a threat to herself, himself, and others, Pickles removes his lab coat, puts on a nice tweed jack, wire rim glasses, and his Freud costume beard and decides to play psyciatrist. He grabs a straight jacket and straps her in tight! "Madame, I believe you're truly lost it! I'm going to need a lot more Cigarettes And Alcohol if I'm to Soldier though this loss of Innocence!" Dr. Pickles puts on an album by that great new soprano, Frank Sinatra. Fearing Eepster might turn him into the Town Slave of New Orleans if she were allowed to run free, he made sure his Luger was fully loaded. He placed Eepster in the corner of his office, not sure if he should dump her in the nearest river, or have her commited to an asylum! Not quite sure what to do, her decided to leave this Black Widow of a harpy in his office, and left to catch the touring Broadway show of Fiddle On The Roof. Afterwards he dressed in his finest country Squire attire and attended a Masquerade party. On his way back to the office to dump Eepster in the nearest lake, he rushed through the Thunder storm that made the Darkknight seem even colder. He crept into his office, as stealthy as a jaguar to dispose of Eepster. But, she was GONE! Did she steal his plane tickets to Holland to live with his Uncle Jack the bunny farmer? Did she go off to seek the Great Pumpkins in a sincere pumpkin patch? Nobody know! What Pickles did know, was that with this crazy woman roaming the streets, his life was not safe! With this deranged bruiser best described as a Lady Heartless seeking to unleash a violent armageddon on his beautiful face, he woul dhave to be very careful. Very careful indeed! |
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Reply by: Dr_Pickles at Oct 05, '12 21:43 | |
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