Gus walked in, smoothing a hand down his jaw, knowing just how good he looked. "Good afternoon, Dr. Pepper," he said with an irresistible grin.

"That's Seargent Doctor Pepper. I was in the army. But not as an army doctor. I played the fife as I led the tanks through the streets of London."

"Shawn! Do you even know how many things are wrong with that sentence?"

"Three? Five? Negative two? Pi?"

"Just play your part, Shawn," Gus reminded him. Shawn got off track easily.

Shawn cleared his throat. "Well, if it isn't my favorite pharmaceutical representative," Shawn intoned, "How are you, Linen G. Trousers? How goes the selling of medicinal potions?"

"Potions, Shawn?" Gus said, annoyed.

"I thought it would be fun to be an old-timey doctor. Like in the good old days."

"Like when they thought nicotine and cocaine were good ways to relieve tension?" Gus pointed out.

"Did they really? Oh, snap."

"No one says that any more, Shawn."

"I bet old-timey doctors do."

"Shawn!"

"Okay, okay, don't get your britches in a briefcase made of bouillabaisse. Tell me, Mr. Trousers, about all the medicines you are selling."

"For the last time, Shawn, I do not sell medicine! I provide samples to medical professionals and provide them with information about the benefits of various-"

"You don't look healthy, Mr. Trousers. Since you're here at my very large and imposing doctors office, I should give you a checkup." Shawn smiled at Gus.

Gus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. At least Shawn had remembered that part of the script. Sometimes Gus wondered why he even bothered to write their lines out when Shawn was just going to improvise anyway. He knew for a fact that Shawn never read past the first three lines.

"If you insist, Doctor," Gus said in his sexiest, most seductive voice.

Shawn smiled and sat in a chair and patted his thighs. "Now sit on my lap and tell me what treatments you want."

"Your lap? What kind of doctor have you being going to, Shawn?"

Shawn smiled and replied, "I was thinking it would be fun to make it more like Santa. I mean, what would you like better, going to the doctor or going t-"

"Shawn! We are doing a doctor's visit!"

"Oh. Okay. Oooh. Idea! No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes, definitely an idea. Racecar drivers!"

"No."

"Racecar drivers who moonlight as doctors?"

"Why would - you know what, forget it, no."

"Professional reindeer hunters who moonlight as doctors? We could wear fur-lined stethoscopes and-"

"No! NO NO NO! We are not roleplaying falconers who moonlight as doctors or famous alpenhorn players who moonlight as doctors or reclusive Bigfoot twins who moonlight as doctors. I am a handsome and intelligent yet pliant young pharmaceutical representative and you are a doctor who respects me professionally but feels a personal fondness despite yourself due to my charming personality, quick wit, and my tendency to regale you with funny stories about corporate retreats and golfing mistakes. And you are going to give me a very, very thorough checkup, and then you are going to tell me that you want to start prescribing every medical treatment I have a brochure about. Do you understand me, Shawn?"

"Come on, Gus, wouldn't it be fun to-"

"Shawn. I roleplayed Ric Ocasek to your Paulina Porizkova. I played Blinky to your Pacman, and the Rubik's Cube to your Walkman, which, by the way, were not even a couple. And I even acted out your erotic drama about Rainbow Brite growing up and becoming the proprietress of a Goth dungeon. So you can certainly be a doctor for one night, Shawn."

"But-"

"Do not test me, Shawn."

Shawn pouted for a moment, then mumbled, "Let's have a look at your ears, Mr. Trousers."

"Yes, doctor. Do I need to remove my clothing?"

Shawn hesitated. "Um. Yes. Get naked right away."

Gus stripped quickly and sat down.

"So... you're just going to do whatever I say now?" Shawn asked, confused.

"That's right," Gus responded, giving Shawn a pointed look, "You're the doctor, so I have to do whatever you say."

Shawn furrowed his brow, appearing deep in thought, until finally he said, "Wait, do people ACTUALLY do what doctors say? Like even in a non S&M situation? Because that would explain a lot about why my doctors keep telling me that they have too many patients and need me to find another office."

"Shawn," Gus groaned. He wasn't sure, really, if Shawn were kidding at this point. It wasn't beyond him, either way.

"Right. Focus. Okay, Mr. Trousers, I am going to examine every part of your body. And some parts, I will need to examine multiple times. To test your endurance."

"Yes, doctor," Gus said immediately, smiling in anticipation.

"Hmmm. Really? Being a doctor is awesome. What's that thing where I shove a finger in you called?"

"It's called a prostate exam, Shawn, and the word 'shove' is not part of what will occur if I let you anywhere near my prostate."

"Now, now, Trousers, don't make the Doctor angry, or instead of getting a lollipop you'll get a lump of coal."

Gus sighed. But he didn't correct him. He just said, "Yes, Doctor, you're right, it has been a long time since I've had an exam."