Mrs. Jameson, I’m Dr. Marks. Unfortunately, I have some bad news about your husband…

He sucks.

He just plain sucks. He’s the absolute worst. He walks around like he owns the place, and it’s like, “Buddy, you’re hooked up to an IV and you can’t piss without a tube, so cool it.” And the thing is this: He’s not overtly terrible, he just makes all these little snide, sarcastic remarks, like, “Could it be colder in these rooms?” and “Prisons have better food than this.” Stupid shit like that. And you know what we all want to say? “Hey, Mr. Jameson, we get it. We all know hospital food isn’t great. But how about you shut your fucking face.” So, yeah, it’s just been the overall accumulation of these things that makes us hate him.

Also, he didn’t make it through surgery.

Just kidding, he’s fine and resting comfortably.

Just kidding, he’s dead.

- - -


Mr. Brody, I’m Dr. Marks. I have some bad news, but before I get to that, you have food in your teeth. It looks like a piece of spinach or something. Nope, still there. Still there. Still there. Other side now. Here, I’ll show you in my mouth where the spinach is, and, using that visual simulation, I want you to try to get it out of your mouth. No, the other side. It’s still there. It’s in the gum now. Do you want the very bad news before you get the spinach out of your teeth or after you get the spinach out of your teeth? Great.

We have to remove your head.

And your arm.

And your other arm.

And the leg.

And the other leg.

And the genitals.

And the torso.

And the eyes. But what we’ll do, Mr. Brody, is take the eyes out of the face after we remove the head. Same with the nose and the ears and lips. We’ll pluck those off the face after the eyes so you don’t have to see that process. Actually, come to think of it, maybe we should just do the eyes first.

Good news: You will keep your neck and tongue, and they will have to undergo some pretty extensive physical therapy, but with hard work and a little luck, your neck and tongue could live fairly normal lives.

- - -


Mrs. Lowell, I’m Dr. Marks. I have some bad news: Following the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, this country started two wars in the Middle East that forever altered this world’s geopolitical landscape. Those conflicts, along with the collateral damage caused by targeted drone strikes, that — while effective in taking out some top members of al-Qaeda and the Taliban — also killed innocent civilians, ultimately did more to increase the spread of radical Islam than stem the tide of extremism.

Anyway, I’ll get your real doctor.

- - -


Ms. Sullivan, I’m Dr. Marks. I have some bad news: The McRib is back and your cousin David is dead.

On the bright side, the McRib, I think, gets a bad rap, and it is just a cousin. Wait, it’s your second cousin? Well then what the hell are you crying about. Oh, you’re crying about the McRib… Because you really love McRibs… What’s that?… You’re going to leave here and order 750 McRibs?

Ms. Sullivan, I have a question: Are you a mentally ill person? Oh, you are! Fantastic! Me, too!

- - -


Mr. Brody’s neck and tongue, thanks so much for coming in to see me. I have some bad news: It’s looking like a tongue and a neck can’t, what’s the word, “function,” in this world without a body to, what’s the medical term, “be inside of.” Then again, both of you did just take a bus here, and you are both dressed in very nice suits. And you did just offer me gum. And, Neck, you did just mention how much the both you enjoyed Hamilton so, I dunno, maybe you guys are fine.

- - -


Mr. Erikson, I have some great news if you’re not a huge fan of your dad.

- - -


Just kidding, Mrs. Jameson! Of course your husband is alive. Do you really think, as a doctor, that I would deliver news so callously? About a patient who fucking sucks and annoyed the shit out of everyone on my staff? Of course not! Mrs. Jameson, I assure you your husband is alive and well.

In Heaven.

But it’s probably Hell.

- - -


Ms. Sullivan (The McRib lady) and I left the hospital together, went to McDonalds and gorged ourselves on McRib sandwiches. We got married that day and she became Mrs. Julie Sullivan Kakraffernin-Marks (I’m Dr. Carolitis Kakraffernin-Marks. Did you know this whole time you were reading something by a man named Carolitis with a last name “Kakraffernin-Marks”? Weird name, right?) Anyway, Ms. Sullivan and I got divorced, she died, and then I died. And that was that.

Just kidding, I’m alive.