Bowels of Glory

We now return you to 'General Malpractice'.

When we left our hero, he was just finishing a cup of coffee and was tucking a newspaper under his left arm. Let's see how things are going.

Joe Nagel, a mild-mannered gorilla cage cleaner, had been experiencing uncomfortable and irregular bowel movements since late June. His girlfriend, Jill, a medium-to-spicy-mannered boardwalk carnival barker, had suggested that perhaps the stress of losing his mind had been effecting his evacuation. Not one to listen to the irrational ravings of women, Joe immediately dismissed this diagnosis as the oncoming of PMS.

"Well, I'm off," Joe announced.

"Good luck, honey," Jill called after him as he made his way down the hall to the commode.

Joe went through his morning ritual. He sat down, took a few deep breaths, and thumbed to the entertainment section of the morning paper. He loved to read about the latest pop idol's drug-fuelled exploits and his crumbling career. The articles often exposed this pop idol for what he truly was: a loathsome, philandering rat. And Joe knew that he would get his comeuppance.

This morning, though, Joe's revery was disturbed by the sound of an animal lapping up water.

Slurp, slurp, slurp. Odd, Joe thought about the clichéd onomatopoeia, we don't have any pets.

Slurp, Slurp, Slurp. It sounds like it's coming from inside the toilet. Not one to listen to the irrational ravings of a toilet, Joe immediately dismissed this as impossible. Yet, the mysterious slurping continued.

Joe popped off the toilet and looked down between his legs into the bowl. He didn't see anything unexpected, and the lapping sound had stopped. He shrugged and sat back down. His arch-nemesis, as he often referred to the pop idol, had been caught lip syncing the national anthem. Should be put to death, thought Joe.

Before he could continue his thought, the lapping sound came again. Annoyed, Joe leapt off the bowl, turned around as fast as he could, and was quickly met face to face with an empty toilet bowl. He suddenly recalled the outlandish suggestion made by Jill regarding his inability to "go." He ignored this thought because he was certain this was not conjured by his mind.

Unfortunately for Joe, his certainty was correct. As he was cleaning up his unmentionable areas, a sharp, agonizing pain coursed through his wiping hand. Joe screamed and jerked his hand around to the front. At the end of his hand was the mouth of an enormous, grotesque, seething worm. Joe managed to shake his hand loose and the worm retreated. When Joe jumped off the bowl to see where the worm had come from, it was already gone.

Having heard Joe's scream, Jill was already at the bathroom door. "Baby, you're hand is bleeding. Did you try to unclog the toilet again?" Joe was frightened and nearly hysterical. "Let's go. To the hospital," Jill demanded.

Enervated, Joe did not argue nor try to explain what had happened. Humbly he pulled up his trousers and buttoned them. He quietly marched out to the car.

"I have some good news and some bad news, Mr. Nagel," said the doctor-on-duty. "The good news is that you only have a tapeworm. The bad news is that it's aggressive." Joe clutched his bandaged left hand. "Luckily, with modern medicine, we have ways of treating such a parasite." The doctor loaded two shells into a double-barrel break-action shotgun and closed the barrel. He aimed the business end at Joe's bottom end. Joe eyed the barrel nervously.

The doctor chuckled and put the butt of the gun on the floor. "Relax, I'm just gearing up for my fishing trip this weekend." He leaned the barrel against some expensive-looking equipment. "Take him away, boys," the doctor called out. Two orderlies entered the room with a gurney. They motioned for Joe to lie down. Joe hesitated, but eventually climbed aboard.

He relaxed on the hard, plastic mattress and breathed a loud sigh of relief. "So I'm gonna be alright, doc?" asked Joe.

"Oh, I have no idea. We don't accept your insurance." The doctor's face contorted as he let out an obnoxious fit of laughter. The orderlies zipped up a body bag around Joe and carted him out of the emergency room. They dumped the bag down a nearby chute marked "Used Sharps."