IT’S GOING TO BE A HEADY AFTERNOON
Dr. Arlington Vance, a prominent brain surgeon
Loretta, his secretary/confidante
LORETTA: Hey Dr. V. How was lunch?
DR. V: Young Dr. Cavendish took me to his favorite pizzeria. My slice was positively swimming in fluorescent orange grease.
LORETTA: Sounds disgusting.
Dr. V: Yes, it was. I’ve got to admit, however, that it was also quite tasty. Anyone call while I was out?
LORETTA: They sure did. Let’s see—Dateline would like to interview you about a possible link between cell phones and brain tumors, Harvard Med School wants you for a lecture series on aneurysms, and your brother needs to borrow a couple hundred bucks.
DR. V: I told him gynecology doesn’t pay enough, but he wouldn’t listen. (shakes head)
LORETTA: Oh, and get this—some clown named Bruce Fisher called. An editor for the Stupidhead books.
DR. V: The
LORETTA: You must have seen them. There’s a whole series: The Stupidhead’s Guide to Mutual Funds, Big-Game Hunting for
Stupidheads, Even a Stupidhead Can Refinish Floors—
Stupidheads. Hmm. (lifts an eyebrow) And people buy these books?
LORETTA: Best sellers, every one of them. I see people reading them on the subway all the time.
DR. V: (nearly inaudible) Can’t remember the last time I was on the subway.
LORETTA: Anyway, I would’ve guessed there was already a Stupidhead book for every topic on God’s green Earth. Apparently, though, there’s not one for brain surgery—yet. That’s why this Fisher guy was calling, to see if you’d be willing to write it.
DR. V: (lengthy pause) Brain Surgery for
LORETTA: (unwrapping candy bar) That’s right.
DR. V: (brow furrowed) Please tell me you hung up on him.
LORETTA: I didn’t get a chance to. (bites a chunk off candy bar) He hung up on me, after I offered to write The Stupidhead’s Guide to Shoving Your Fist Up Bruce Fisher’s Ass.
DR. V: (smiles) I really ought to give you a raise.
LORETTA: Better wash that pizza grease off your hands. They’re expecting you in the
O.R. in 20 minutes.