“Right there on the femur, look at that shit,” Ralph said. Doctor Clammington peered close to it, moving his head closer and closer to the leg, and then gave a peck on Ralph’s thigh.
“Yeah, it looks pretty dangerously dizzy to me,” Doctor Clammington said. “I’d better get a closer look. Your shorts are in the way though. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Ralph said.
Doctor Clammington inspected Ralph’s thigh very closely, and then made carefully sure to see if his sacrum and ilium were also damaged in any way.
“How long are we gonna keep doing this?” Ralph asked.
Stu leaned his head back against the wall and took a gulp of his whiskey. “It’s the only way to be safe,” he said. “Our wives would find out instantly if we didn’t go about it this way.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Ralph said. “We’re at a bar right now and they aren’t ever going to find out, I don’t bet. They’ll never see this, either.” He leaned in and kissed Stu on the mouth.
“It’s a losing game,” Stu said. “I don’t know how we could have kept it up this long if I didn’t happen to be your general practitioner. We probably would have been caught long ago.”
“You worry too much,” Ralph said.
“If you say so,” Stu said.
“Are you awake? Stu?” Ralph nudged on Stu and pulled the sheets off him. “I think my wife’s home. You need to hurry.”
Stu jumped out of bed and began dressing himself. The headlights shone through the window, and then they turned off. Ralph could hear the footsteps towards the door.
“I told you we were going to be caught, I told you,” Stu said. “I warned you.”
The dog began barking. “Shut up, Rosie,” Ralph told the dog.
The keys jangled.
“A house call? In the middle of the night?” Wife asked.
“Yeah, sorry. I was feeling terrible. I might need to go to the hospital,” Ralph said.
“Oh you poor thing…” Wife hugged him and Ralph leaned backwards, falling onto the bed. He yelped.
“Don’t worry, sir,” Doctor Clammington said. “Your insurance will cover all expenses here while you’re being operated on. I’m glad we got to you in time. Your appendicitis was very bad. Very, very bad.”
“I can’t ask you to kiss that one, can I?” Ralph asked.
“I can try.” Doctor Clammington leaned in and operated on Ralph as best as he could.
“There was nothing we could do,” Stu told Wife, dressed all in black. “We couldn’t save him.” Wife cried herself to sleep that night, and so did Stu.