Dr. PATTON stares out the window of a hospital room. It’s raining. Behind him his PATIENT lies in a hospital bed and is visibly nervous about the life-altering surgery ahead. The patient’s WIFE holds his hand.
PATIENT: So how exactly does this procedure work?
DR. PATTON: Sometimes I wish I knew.
PATIENT: What does that mean?
WIFE: We understand it involves …
The doctor spins around to face them.
DR. PATTON: No! Don’t tell me.
The doctor returns to the window.
PATIENT: Have you even looked at my chart?
DR. PATTON: Son, I don’t even know what a chart is.
WIFE: I think we’d like to see a different surgeon.
Two nurses and a SURGICAL ASSISTANT watch as DR. PATTON examines the prone body of a male patient on the operating table.
DR. PATTON: Turn him over. Prep the butt area.
The nurses do as they’re told. The SURGICAL ASSISTANT looks alarmed.
DR. PATTON: Scalpel.
SURGICAL ASSISTANT: Uh …
DR. PATTON begins an incision in the patient’s left buttock.
SURGICAL ASSISTANT: Excuse me! Doctor, I’m not sure that’s where I’d begin.
DR. PATTON: You must be new.
SURGICAL ASSISTANT: So?
DR. PATTON: Let me ask you something, why do you think I’m number one? Is it my square jaw and steady hands? No, it’s because . . .
SURGICAL ASSISTANT: Look, we’re just supposed to remove the boy’s tonsils.
DR: PATTON: Wow. (Dropping his scalpel in the tray) Unbelievable.
Blood is now flowing freely from the patient’s posterior.
DR. PATTON: I guess someone forgot to tell me it was fucking amateur hour!
CHIEF OF SURGERY: You’re the best there is, but this procedure is too risky, even for you. Let me assist.
DR. PATTON: I do this alone, chief, or I don’t do it at all.
CHIEF OF SURGERY: You’re not removing a mole, goddamnit! This is brain surgery! I don’t like it.
DR. PATTON: You don’t have to.
CHIEF OF SURGERY: (Sighs) Fine, but at least look at the MRI, and do it in radiosurgery.
DR. PATTON: Sorry, chief. You know that’s not my style. This is going to be quick and dirty, just how I like it. Hand me the scalpel.
CHIEF OF SURGERY: You must be joking.
DR. PATTON: No. This tumor has been inside my head long enough.
DR. PATTON is in a supply closet with an attractive NURSE, and they are on the verge of passionate lovemaking.
NURSE: What you did in surgery today was so sexy.
DR. PATTON: Was it?
NURSE: Weren’t you afraid?
DR. PATTON: You must be new.
NURSE: It’s just … removing a balloon full of deadly nerve gas from a man’s stomach would rattle anyone. I mean, one slip and …
DR. PATTON: Nerve gas? (Laughs) What are you talking about?
DR. PATTON: The patient looked bloated, babe, but I’m sure it was your run-of-the-mill bean-burrito gas. Nothing to worry about.
NURSE: (Panicked) But the police said … oh my god, we brought all the patients back … you told everyone the operation was a success!
DR. PATTON: It was. I bifurcated the guy’s tongue, and strengthened his calves with baboon muscle.
From outside the closet someone screams. There is the sound of hissing gas and people coughing and running. DR. PATTON makes a “yikes!” expression and pulls a paper mask over his face.
DR. PATTON: (Romantically) So where were we?
DR. PATTON strides into a waiting room where MS. REESE is anxiously waiting for him.
DR. PATTON: Ms. Reese, the operation was a complete success. Both your boy and the donor are fine.
MS. REESE: Oh, I was so worried. (Tears pool in her eyes.) Thank you for saving him, Dr. Patton. Thank you so much.
DR. PATTON: You can see him now if you’d like. He should be waking up soon.
DR. PATTON and MS. REESE walk into a hospital room. There are two beds. In one is a TEENAGE BOY and in the other a MIDDLE-AGED MAN. Both are asleep. She goes to the boy and kisses his head.
MS. REESE: Hi, sweetheart. How are you feeling?
TEENAGE BOY: (A little confused by her affection) Uh … okay, I guess.
The MIDDLE-AGED MAN stirs in the next bed.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: (Groggily) Mom, why are you kissing Mr. Johnson?
MS. REESE: What do you mean? This is Billy, my son. You’re Mr. Johnson.
TEENAGE BOY/MR. JOHNSON: No, I’m Frank … Frank Johnson, the donor. Is everything okay? Was the operation successful?
DR. PATTON: Very.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN/BILLY: What’s going on, Mom?
MOM: Are they still under the influence of the drugs, Dr. Patton?
DR. PATTON: No, they’re just disoriented. It’s very common when someone is adjusting to a different face.
MS. REESE: I’m not sure I understand.
DR. PATTON: Face swap, I switched their faces. That’s why your son now looks like a 55-year-old man and the geezer looks like your 13-year-old son. It’s very cutting-edge stuff, very sci-fi. (He chuckles, shaking his head in wonderment.) And I’ll be honest with you, I wasn’t certain I could pull it off.
MS. REESE: No, this is crazy. You gave Billy one of Mr. Johnson’s kidneys.
BILLY: Am I wrinkled, Mom? (Running his hands over his face) Do I look old?
MS.REESE looks at her wizened son and passes out. BILLY begins to sob, and DR. PATTON puts his arm around his shoulders.
DR. PATTON: Son, in a couple years all the kids will be swapping faces with old timers like their trading cards. And guess what, when all your buddies are paying full price to see one of those penguin movies you teenagers are so crazy about, your ticket will be $2 to $3 less. Pretty cool, if you ask me.
MR. JOHNSON: I’m calling my lawyer.
DR. PATTON: Why?