It's Not My Fault By D. Kelly Dr. Brackett stepped briskly into the examining room, rolling his eyes at the patient waiting for him. "That's it," he exclaimed, dropping the chart on the examination table. "I'm telling the administrator to start charging you rent." His irritation transferred itself to the patient. "Hey, it's not MY fault," the young man protested, thumping his chest. "I was just doing my job." Brackett grumbled disapprovingly as he examined the wound. "How exactly is THIS part of your job?" "Well, see, this kid got stuck trying to get down into the sewer. He was a big kid; I can't believe he thought he'd fit. And after we got him out, he wanted us to get his pet. We figured he'd try again if we didn't." "There ARE Animal Control people for things like that, you know." "What? Call Animal Control for a little thing like that? I'd never be able to show my face to the guys again." "Better to lose face than a finger. Next time, call a professional," Brackett ordered. "It was just a BABY!" Brackett dropped the hand in disgust and eyed his patient. "Do you have ANY idea how much bacteria there is in an alligator's mouth?" |