SO THERE I WAS.
WITH NOTHING BUT A VOLLEYBALL AND A TOILET BRUSH.
I WAS GETTING A CHECK-UP DONE AT THE LOCAL DOCTOR'S OFFICE WHEN I HEARD SOMEONE SHOUT,
"WE'RE SHORT AN O.R. SURGEON! WE NEED YOU!"
IN A SPLIT SECOND, I FOUND MYSELF PERFORMING A QUADRUPLE BYPASS SURGERY ON A MIDDLE-AGED GENTLEMAN IN CRITICAL CONDITION.
AND JUST AS I WAS ABOUT TO CUT IN WITH MY SCALPEL,
THE EDGES OF THE GAME BOARD BUZZED.
WHOSE STUPID IDEA WAS IT TO PUT THE OPERATION GAME IN THE WAITING ROOM OF AN ACTUAL DOCTOR'S OFFICE?
EVERYONE'S GOING TO BE WAY TOO NERVOUS ABOUT THEIR OWN REAL MEDICAL ISSUES TO PLAY THE GAME PROPERLY.
ANYWAYS,
I CRIED FOR THREE HOURS AFTERWARDS,
BUT I STILL GOT A LOLLIPOP AT THE END OF MY APPOINTMENT.
THE END.