A Comedy of AR's

Chapter 77
Freaky Friday (23) – Buffalo, We Have a Problem

Chapter Description: Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home

Sam looked at me glumly.  “Derrek, I’m afraid we’re going to have to call my dad again for a trip to the ER … exactly what we didn’t want.”

I nodded.  “Paul is going to go ballistic after we told him earlier today that we were both adults.”

The boy stared at the floor and mumbled, “I guess I better make the call.”  Then he punched up his father’s number.

“Hey Dad.  Hi, it’s Sam.  How are you doing?”  Sam turned on the speaker phone.

His father responded, “That sounds like a rather odd greeting coming from you.  What is it that you want to tell me?”

“Well, Dad, Derrek and I have a little problem that we would appreciate your help with.”

“I see … Sam, is this going to require dumping another body into Lake Erie?”

“No, no, Dad … nothing like that.  We just need a ride.”

“To where?”

“Uh … the ER.”

“As in ‘Emergency Room’?”

“Uh … kinda … yeah.”

Sam put his hand over the phone and whispered to me, “Dad’s pissed.”

I could already hear Paul yelling at the other end.  “You know, Sam, I must have had rocks in my head to allow two eleven-year-olds to go off to their own devices with no adult supervision!   So what the hell happened this time?”

“Dad, it would be easier if you just drove over here and we could explain in person.”

“Hell no, Sam!” his dad spoke angrily.  “Last time I did that, you presented me with a dead body.  So just spit it out.  What’s your emergency?”

Sam’s voice shook.  “Okay, okay … I’ve got something stuck in my butt hole.”

“A gerbil?” his dad inquired.

“No, Dad, it’s a cucumber.  It’s up too high for me to push out.”

“Gee, Sam, I thought you didn’t like vegetables.”

“Dad, I’m sorry it sounds so stupid … and it is stupid.  But I still need your help.”

“And pretell, how did this article make its way up your colon?”

“Derrek and I were just messing around.”

“Sam, it sounds like there was a lot more going on here than just a little ‘messing around’.”

“Okay, but can you come over?”

“I suppose I don’t have much choice.  I’ll be there shortly.   –click—

I asked Sam, “You didn’t want to tell him about me yet?”

“Derrek, I was afraid to rile him up even more.  We’ll tell him when he gets here.  We should get dressed now … and put a pad in your panties.”

We waited for the knock at the door.  Paul entered and his expression was grim.  “You two idiots are going to drive me to an early grave.”

“Dad, please try to hold your anger.  Derrek also has a stuck cucumber.”

“Where?”

“In his vagina.”

“I like your pronoun ‘his vagina’.  So if we’re lucky, the hospital might be running a BOGO special.  Buy one cucumber extraction, get one free.”

I told the other two, “We also need to choose ID’s.  Sam can’t go to the hospital as ‘Sammantha Adams’.   I think he should go as ‘Derrek Adams’ because I have a birth certificate for a ‘Derrek Adams’, age eleven.  He can be Paul’s son, which technically, he is.”

“What about you?” Sam asked me.

“Okay, here’s my cover,” I said.  “I’m your friend ‘Anna Meeks’ from Kenya.  My parents work for a diplomatic mission and they sent me on holiday with friends, which is you guys.  If the hospital wants a passport, I tell them I’ll get it later.

“Not bad, Derrek,” said Sam … So there’s no way they can call your parents.”

Paul shook his head.  “I’m going to get the blame for this, you know that.”

It took about 20 minutes to drive to the Buffalo Mercy Hospital.  We’re fortunate to have one of the finest medical facilities in the country right here in town.  I would not have been surprised if they had a specific department dedicated to cucumber extraction.

The parking area around the ER was unusually un-crowded, maybe because it was a Monday afternoon.  That made it easy to walk right up to the admissions clerk.

“Good afternoon,” Paul said to the attendant, as he presented the boy first.  This was going to get so confusing.  Today we were calling the boy Derrek.  We couldn’t call him Sammantha. 

“This eleven-year-old boy has a cucumber in his rectum that needs removing.”

The attendant nodded and started typing, not even looking up.  Maybe this sort of thing happens every day.

Paul continued, “And I want to emphasize that this other child here also has a cucumber that needs extracting.”

“I heard you the first time, Mr. …”

“Adams … I’m Paul Adams.”

“You’re in luck, Mr. Adams.  You can go right through those doors and take the second bed in room 9.   I’ve put the notice in, and a doctor will be with you shortly.”

Paul raised an eyebrow.  “Thank you for the quick service.  I appreciate that.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Adams.”

Paul whispered to us, “Don’t get me stumbling over the names.  The boy is going first.”

We all agreed to that.  In room 9, we walked past another young boy who smiled at us when we walked in.

“Hi, I’m Jimmy,” he said.  “I’m here because I broke my arm when I fell off my bike today.  Why are you here?”

I thought the boy was being kind of nosy, but our ‘boy’ was willing to answer him.

“Hello, Jimmy, I’m Derrek, and I’m here because I’ve got a cucumber stuck in my ass.”

Jimmy was impressed. “Oh cool!  Next time, you should try a gerbil … I’m just waiting here for my arm cast.”

Hospital service had never moved this fast.  In about ten minutes a doctor came in to see us.  He was of Indian heritage (from India) as were many physicians today.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted us.  My name is Doctor Tush Besore and I’m a gastro-enterologist.  That’s a person who treats the digestive system.  I understand that you’re having a little problem with Uranus.  And then, you’re supposed to say ‘Yes, but not Neptune or Pluto’.”

None of us laughed.

“Okay,” he continued.  “From the notes, it looks like you probably have the cucumber in your sigmoid colon, that’s the first bend.  So we’re going to use the same tool we use for a colonoscopy to remove it.  It’s called a colonoscope.  It’s a long flexible tube with a camera, a light, and, let’s call it a ‘grabbing wire’ at the end.”

“Dr. Besore, Is it painful?” the boy asked.  (Keep in mind that the boy in this case is actually the 28 year old female psychologist, Sammantha Adams.)

“Not at all,” the doctor answered.  “We’ll give you a little sedation and you won’t feel a thing.  It’s a simple procedure.  If you’re able to walk, you can all follow me upstairs.  And feel free to watch the procedure on the viewer screen.”

The three of us followed Dr. Tush Besore out of the room as the other boy, Jimmy, waved. 

“Goodbye Derrek!  Good luck with your asshole!”

In a few minutes, the four of us entered a half-darkened room with a slab table in the middle.

“Okay, so you’re name is Derrek, yes?  Derrek we have a little carrying basket for you and I like you to take off everything except your socks and put them in your basket.”

“Shouldn’t I put on a hospital gown?” the boy asked.

The doctor scoffed, “Not necessary for a child under twelve.  You can run naked throughout the hospital.  It’s not a problem.  Hurry please.”

I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about the boy being embarrassed, because I knew my turn was coming.  He looked like he was cold as he peeled down his underpants and surprisingly, he didn’t have a boner this time.  I still think he looked really cute when he was nude and we weren’t trying to beat each other up.

He followed his instructions to get on the slab table and lay sideways. He had goosebumps from the chill and he looked a little scared.  Dr. Besore injected his arm with a needle to start an intravenous line.

“Derrek,” said the doctor, “this drug will put you into the twilight zone for a little while and you’ll be a little woozy when you’re coming out, okay.”

“Yes, doctor,” the boy slurred his speech.  He was already in La-La land.

Paul and I just sat in the room and watched the screen.  Dr. Besore wasted no time running the colonoscope up the boy’s rectum.  The video showed a weird looking rough red tunnel, not very pretty.  It didn’t take long to get to the target.

“Okay, folks, as you can see on the screen, we’re going to lasso the cucumber with our wire loop, then tighten it up … like so … and gently guide it back out … as simple as that.”

The doctor asked us, “Would you like to take it home as a souvenir?”

Paul and I responded, “Ugh … no thank you.”

“Okay, then.  The nurse will clean him up a bit, and I’m going to ask you to keep him nude for awhile to make sure he isn’t bleeding.  The sedation will gradually wear off later.  So, we have a wheelchair with a pad for him to sit on … and you’re all set.”

“But Dr. Besore,” said Paul with alarm, “What about the girl?  She has a cucumber too.”

The doctor’s eyes peeled back in disbelief.  “Well that is certainly very unusual.  Mr. Adams, are you putting cucumbers in your children?”

“No, absolutely not,” Paul insisted.  “The kids were just playing around while I was out shopping.”

“I see … Well this is most unusual, but if the girl would like to undress and get up on the table, there’s no reason we couldn’t do a second procedure.”

“Um, Dr. Besore,” I spoke up timidly.  “My cucumber is not in my colon.  It’s in my vagina.”

“I see … Well in that case, I’m going to have to send you up to gynecology.  They can take care of you there.  But I must strongly advise you and the boy to never again put foreign objects in your orifices.  It can be very dangerous.”

“I understand, Doctor,” I agreed.

“Alright then,” the doctor said, taking a cell phone out of his pocket.  “Hello, Doctor Penice?  This is Dr. Besore, downstairs.  I have an eleven-year-old patient with an object lodged in her vagina that she can’t get out.  Do you have a room open?  Send her right up?  Thank you so much, Dr. Penice.”

I asked, “Is there really a Doctor Penis?”

“Oh yes, but it’s just spelled differently … P-e-n-i-c-e.   My nurse will take you up there.  You can push the boy in his wheelchair till he wakes up … and don’t forget his basket.  It was nice meeting you folks.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Paul and I said in unison.