Doctor Divorsky had a little rectangle of thin white paper. He was writing with a ballpoint pen:

"Attention vending machine: Please let me have some of your Skittles. This is Doctor Divorsky. I am a doctor at this hospital. Thanks so much."

He put the cap on his pen and stared at the note for a full minute and blew on it gently to make the ink dry before stuffing it in the break room vending machine's bill slot. It wasn't working. Julie from Intensive Care walked in.

"Hey Julie, can you read this?"

He handed her the paper and crossed his arms.

"Yeah... what is it?"

"Well I'm try--"

"You're not trying to use this, are you? In the vending machine?"

"I want those Skittles in there."

"Yeah but doctor, this isn't going to work. Let me give you some change. How much do you need?"

"I have plenty of change, Julie. I want Skittles."

Julie was paged and had to leave the room in a hurry, feeling certain that doctor Divorsky bumped his head again.


Doctor Divorsky paced around the break room. Why do they lock those Skittles up behind a pane of glass? Who puts them there? Why?

He had to perform gallbladder surgery in twenty minutes. He needed a snack to keep his strength up. Those Skittles were looking fine.

Ten minutes until surgery. Still no snack. Still pacing. Still wondering things.

Five minutes. No snack. No ideas. Pacing.


Divorsky entered the operating room with a mind completely taken up by those cock-sucking Skittles. It made no sense whatsoever. A nurse put a mask over his face and helped him with his gloves. He shook his head.

"Doctor Divorsky?"

Divorsky didn't respond.

"Doctor Divorsky? The patient is ready."

"Oh... Yes, O.K."

Divorsky briefly examined the body and felt around for the gallbladder. He took a scalpel and made a good clean cut, right where it needed to be. He reached into his pocket and removed a little rectangle of thin white paper and wrote with a ballpoint pen:

"Attention gallbladder: Please let me have your gallstones. You are making this person sick and we need to get them from you. At your earliest convenience. I am a doctor at this hospital. Thanks so much."

Divorsky let the ink dry and inserted the paper into the patient's incision. The operating room was stunned silent. Several minutes passed, and then...

"Doctor Divorsky?"

No response.

"Doctor? What did you do?"

There was a broadening red spot on Divorsky's mask. He stared intently at the incision.


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