Medical References (a Larry and Mick Tale)

"I can't stand people who haven't got all their toes," said Larry. "I'm Lack-toes Intolerant."

"Oh dear," said Mick, who was somewhat distracted by the tall, thin man across the street, who was leaning to one side.

"I said..." said Larry.

"I heard you," said Mick, as the tall, thin man twitched his right eye and started to yawn.

"I'm no medical boffin or anything," said Mick, "but 'd say that man has a lazy eye."

"You mean the man who is leaning to one side, like-?"

"Italicised text?"

"Yes."

"So do you think henceforth we could refer to him as Lazy Eye-talics?"

"Oh Mick..."

***

As they passed Mr Lazy Eye-talics (who was muttering incoherently to himself in Latin), Mick had an idea.

"Let's go to Germany!" said he.

"Why?" said Larry.

"There is a popular restaurant which I haven't been to in years!"

"In Germany?"

"Yes!"

"Why the heck not?"

***

Six months later, after renewing and awaiting delivery of their new passports, they hopped on a plane to Germany.

"No hopping allowed," said one of the flight attendants (the blonde, busty one with perfect skin, as opposed to the blonde, busty one with perfect skin and a limp).

"Sorry," said Larry and Mick simultaneously, who had just spent the weekend at a Bugs Bunny Convention. They then walked normally onto the aeroplane and strapped themselves in.

"Off we go!" said they, and off they did indeed go.

***

"So what's this restaurant called then?" said Larry, as they hopped, skipped and cartwheeled down the centre of the Autobahn (don't ask).

"What restaurant?" said Mick.

"The reason why we're in Germany," said Larry.

"Oh that restaurant," said Mick. "It's called the Munch-Hausen."

"Sounds familiar," said Larry.

"I can't get enough of it!" said Mick.

"I thought you said you hadn't been in years."

"Did I? I meant I go every weekend."

"You've got a problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Munch-Hausen Syndrome."

***

"Of course, I can't go every weekend."

"Like when we've got a Bugs Bunny Convention?"

"Yes."

"So what do you do then?"

"I send someone else to go instead of me."

"Oh dear..." said Larry.

"What?" said Mick.

Munch-Hausen Syndrome by Proxy."

[ fin ]