Dahn the Doctor'sMature

''Aah, Mr Higgins.  Now, what seems to be the trouble?  Oh, excuse me.  I'm afraid you can't bring your dog in here.''

''Oi!  Oo you callin a dog?  Ugly stuck-up slap-eaded twat!  Fump im Kev!''

''Yeah, I know she aint no Claudia fuckin Schiffer or Posh bleedin Spice,  but I aint avin nobody callin my Trace a dog!''

''Well, please take a seat, both of you.... or perhaps your... partner would be more comfortable on the couch?''

''I aint allowed on the soddin furnitcha, am I?''

''Very well, the floor then.  Now Mr Higgins.  Let me look at you.  Hmmm.  You do look a little pale.  Could be anaemia.  We'll get the nurse to take some blood before you leave.''

''Blood!  No bleedin way.  I ate needles - an I pass aht at the sight a blood anyow.''

''Well, we can't get you better if you won't co-operate, Mr Higgins, now can we?   Any sickness?''

''I avent, but Trace puked er guts up after she et the remains a the cat.''

''Well then, I'll write a letter referring you to the gastrologist.''

''WOT!  That aint no fuckin use.  I don't believe in them oroscopes.''

''In any case, I think you'll both need to be seen at the hospital as soon as possible.  And I'll write you up for something to clear up that nasty looking conjunctivitis, Mr Higgins.  Now, where did I put my prescription paaaaaaargggh!''


''Urry up Kev.  The 38 bus to the ospital goes in a couple a minutes.  An wipe ya chin, ya messy bloody sod.  You're gettin red blobs all over me best Burberry coat''

The End

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