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Little Toy Bikers and a Woman on the Run
Chapter 212 Dead Baby
Breaking News! I saw on the internet that Charlie Hunnam and Ryan Hurst are appearing at Comic Con in the Motor City in May 2019 and are leading a class in yoga. Still can't stop laughing and it's true!
I hope it's recorded. I really hope it's recorded. Maybe not. It could destroy the fantasy. I'm sure the class will be packed with . . . women.
To say Dr. Carl Namid was angry would have been an understatement. His face was bright red and he was pounding his fist on the desk in his home office.
"There would have been a damned dead baby if Dr. Knowles hadn't been called in to assist me," he shouted.
Margaret Murphy, aka The Red Bitch, stood up and leaned over the desk.
"Well, you can't blame this one on me," she hissed. "I didn't do the scheduling. I thought you were supposed to have a plan to deal with her."
"I do. I just put it in place."
"Well, it was too late for today and we don't have the dead baby we need," Margaret replied. She returned to her seat in the desk chair opposite Carl.
"Well, I can't just pull a dead baby out of my ass. Tell them they are just going to have to wait or they can go murder a kid."
He poured himself another glass of Scotch. His hands were shaking. Margaret looked at him frowning.
"Are you going to be able to keep that under control?"
"Don't worry about me. Just a couple more months."
"You want that golden retirement, you better stay focused."
"Get me another sick baby and make sure Knowles isn't assisting," Carl said. "That damned dumb bitch. She thinks she's such a fucking talented surgeon. That baby that didn't die has at best two years left to live. During that time, the baby will be in pain every single second, of every single day until his body gives out.
"The parents will end up getting divorced and end up bankrupt from all the extras the baby needs but insurance doesn't cover. It's a fucking tragedy."
"The baby doesn't have any chance of a normal life?"
"No and it will be hell for the baby and the family. It was a perfect baby for us."
"Well, maybe we'll get lucky and some baby will fall into a swimming pool and die. Neat and clean with no worries about a malpractice suit."
"Malpractice suits don't matter to me," Carl said before downing his Scotch in one long gulp.
"Some of us still have to worry about that," Margaret said tartly.
"You'll be on to the next job in a year or so. It won't be an issue for you."
Margaret looked longingly at the Scotch bottle.
"I wish I didn't have to go back home to my idiot husband and my two kids from hell. I wish I'd had abortions."
"As soon as I'm done here, I'm going to open a med spa in a Southern state with restrictive abortion laws. I'm going to do secret abortions and sell the fetal tissue. A year or two at that and I'm buying an island. I'm going to have young beautiful barely legal girls attend to my every wish."
"Keep the kink in check while you're here. A sex scandal could destroy our plan."
"Nothing is getting in the way of our plan including Dr. Knowles. You have my guarantee on that."
Carl poured himself another glass of Scotch while Margaret let herself out of his house. He looked at the clock on his desk and decided to give it another hour before checking in on the status of his plan for Dr. Knowles.