Pay Your Damn Bill
An expectant mother goes to war with a health clinic over an unfounded medical bill. Little does she know that an evil cabal awaits her, with grand plans for the destruction of modern day America. As the twisted and gruesome conspiracy unravels, she wonders if she should have followed their demands from the start: PAY YOUR DAMN BILL.
Doctor Thebes shook her head side to side, her shiny black hair bouncing as she did so. She put her glasses back on to the hilt of her nose. "Billy said you've been trying to break free. That won't help your case, you know. We're watching you. We see when you fight back against our good intentions. We see when you sleep, when you piss your pants, and when you get a hard-on."
She was not just unprofessional, but psychotic. The things Graham already heard, he would never dare to repeat and he hoped to soon banish those memories from his mind. In his half-sleeping state, he recalled her standing above his bed, biting at his ear lobe, and touching his cheek. He could not be sure, but she may have been naked at the time. The dirty words that came from her mouth, he could barely recognize within his own vocabulary or any human’s for that matter. Her words were as freakish as her outward appearance.
"Hard-ons? What kind of doctor are you?" he begged, holding his chin up at her in an attempt to convey his overruling dignity. He went to the finest universities and travelled all over the world because of his intelligence and drive. He was better than the treatment they bestowed upon him.
"The kind of doctor who respects a good hard-on. I've noticed you get them in your sleep," she said, her slithering tongue had a particular field day with the word sssleep. She wrote on his chart, but he couldn’t imagine what it was that she observed: SLEEPING MALES GET ERECTIONS?
He laughed out loud, lolling his head. Graham said, "Like any man when he sleeps. It's not so strange, really. If you were a real physician, you'd know that."
Thebes leaned in closer to him, nearing his perspiring face. He wanted the pills she denied him for most of the morning. His addiction had snuck up on him, throwing him into its warm trunk and never letting him see its face. "Your dreams. Tell me about your dreams. Am I ever in them?"