"Robert A. Metzger - An Unfiltered Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Metzger Robert)

An Unfiltered Man
by

Robert A. Metzger

Black and spongy. Five bristling hairs poked from its center. A wart.
Even though I had a great distrust of warts, I tried to keep an open mind,
hoping that this one might exhibit some shred of social decency. I
doubted it, though.

“Allen,” said Nurse Bemeyer, “this is Dr. Christhoffer.”

To say the least, I was surprised. I’d encountered many warts
throughout my travels, but few that had names, and fewer still that were
doctors. This did not look good. Warts were generally bad enough, but
experience had long ago taught me to rank doctors at least three
notches below a wart. Facing a wart bestowed with a medical degree
left me with little hope that this would be a pleasant encounter. I prayed
that it wasn’t a specialist.

“Pleased to finally meet you,” said the wart.

I never saw its lips move when it spoke. Actually, I never even saw its
lips. I grudgingly had to admit to myself that this might be a wart that
was a cut above the norm. It was then that I realized what the tricky
little growth was up to. It was using the body that was attached to it to
do its talking. This was pretty damn impressive even for a wart that had
remained unscathed after four years of medical school. I realized in an
inspirational flash that the art wanted to remain incognito, and pass off
the body growing from it as the real Dr. Christhoffer. It hadn’t fooled me,
but I’d go along with the charade until I found out what its real plans
were.

My eyes decided to focus on the creased, white bearded face that was
masquerading as Dr. Christhoffer. His little brown eyes were sunk deep
behind rimless bifocals. A roadmap of crisscrossed veins covered his
red nose and cheeks. This is not a face I would have chosen, but of
course there’s no accounting for taste when you’re dealing with
something from the medical profession.

“I hope I will be able to help you,” said Dr. Christhoffer.

I was momentarily confused. I rarely get confused. Then I realized
what Dr. Christhoffer was referring to. It’s amazing how the little things
can slip your mind. I was insane.

Something grabbed my left hand and pumped it vigorously. The grasp
was moist. I was not surprised. I’d expect the handshake of a wart to
be moist.