Doc Appointment #14

[doc_furcoat]

So how 'bout them Yankees?

[He's tired of hearing about this Mailman, Lucy, people voted to stay stuff. Subtle subject change goes here.]

Comments

[wimpyvampire]

Such a flawless subject change.

[doc_furcoat]

No idea what yer talkin' 'bout.

... an' heard ya met one a my 'daughters', Connie. Bet ya said all sorts a nice things 'bout me, eh?

[wimpyvampire]

It seems like you've brain washed her. She says you're all 'nice'.

[doc_furcoat]

I am nice.

An' she's kinna cute.

[zombee_slayer]

The Yankees are fucking cheaters! Go Red sox!

[doc_furcoat]

Red Soxs are a bunch a little girls. Once they get their panties pulled outta their asses an' play like real men then maybe I might like 'em.

[Actually he has no idea, nor does he care about them... but picking fights is fun.]

[zombee_slayer]

Shut the fuck up ass muncher you don't know shit! The Yankees are the little pussies.

[doc_furcoat]

Temper temper, mate.

Y'should see someone 'bout that.

[shoeofbaileys]

Fuck hockey. Old Gregg don't give a damn.

[doc_furcoat]

Y'mean baseball?

[shoeofbaileys]

Old Gregg don't care. It one of your stupid ass Yank sports.

[doc_furcoat]

Well Old Greggers, what d'ya care 'bout, eh?

[freakinblur]

They suck goats, like usual.

[doc_furcoat]

Kinna hard t'play the game when yer mouth is busy, eh?

[freakinblur]

Ha! Me? I'd be glad ta challenge anyone in town! They're just too busy cryin' about Lucy 'r whatever. Plus they know I'd wipe tha floor with 'em.

[doc_furcoat]

With all the people 'ere y'should start a damn team or two. Give somethin' t'do besides bitch 'bout shit we can't do a damn thing 'bout.

Or y'could jus' beat em over the head a few times with a bat. Works jus' as well.

[weaponsparked]

... Yankees?

[doc_furcoat]

Over yer head, Sideswipey.

[weaponsparked]

Helpful.

[doc_furcoat]

I am a doctor after all, my job t'be helpful.