Chapter 13 - Dr. B (G&G)

GB
 hurriedly tumbled around the shop in search of a telephone.  The best
he could find was a dusty rotary dial, and he used one of his remaining
functional limbs to twist out the number listed on the flier he had been
 so excited to see.  Time had stuck the phone to its pedestal, so the
blooper was forced to lay his head down on the counter next to it.  He
knew that, if his plan worked, he would soon have the help of the
legendary medical professional, Dr. Mario.  With his prosperity,
however, he had no such luck.

“Dr. Mario?  Oh no, he
 hasn’t worked here in ages,” said the receptionist who picked up GB’s
eager call.  “If you want, however, we could set up an appointment for
you with another one of our fine physicians.  What seems to be the
problem?”

“I’m a blooper, and I’ve recently lost one of my tentacles.”

“Uh oh!  I’m actually
 a blooper myself, and I once found myself in a situation similar to
yours.  Let me see what I can do…”  A minute later, her voice returned.
 “Alright!  I think I can set you up with Dr. B.  He specializes in
dismemberment!  That’s what his plaque says, anyways.  I haven’t
actually seen him work before--nobody has, really--but we’ve never
received a single complaint from any of his patients!  Now that I think
about it, actually, we’ve never heard anything at all from his patients.
  I suppose that’s how you can be sure that he’s really good at what he
does!”  The clueless blooper nodded his head in anticipation, and the
receptionist asked when he would like to schedule a meeting with him.

“Well, this life
shroom isn’t doing much to numb the intense pain I feel anymore, and I’m
 probably on the verge of death.”  The woman gasped and began yelling to
 someone in her office, ignoring GB’s suggestion for Tuesday.

“Quickly, sir!  You must tell us your location immediately!”

“Location?  The
Glitz Pit, but how is that going to he-”  All of a sudden, GB was
interrupted by a mind-numbingly loud noise from outside.  He opened the
door to the shop just in time to witness a figure in a trench coat and
daredevil helmet shoot through the sky and crash into the hot dog stand.
  Panicked, the blooper limped outside and attempted to take hold of the
 man.  To his shock, he rolled over on his own, seemingly in perfect
condition.

“Don’t worry about
me, kid.  Ever since our office decided that the use of pipe cannons was
 the most efficient way to reach those in dire need of assistance
quickly, I’ve had to do this plenty of times.  At this point, it’s just
another part of the job.”  He stood up, a towering figure over GB’s
crippled body, and brushed off his shoulders.  Sticking out his hand, he
 continued, “The name’s Boshi, but most people call me Dr. B.”

“Thanks, Dr. B, but I
 think it’s really important that we get right down to business,” GB
implored, gritting his teeth in an attempt to lessen the pain he felt.

“I suppose you’re
right.  First, however, it’s important that we find a private place for
me to work.”  Dr. B looked over both of his shoulders in a way that GB
considered entirely unsuspicious.  “Do you have any place like that
around here?”

GB went over his
options.  Xavier’s hideout and been quarantined since he held Parin
captive there, so that was out of the question.  The storage room was
usually empty, but nobody had access to it but Chubba and Yoshi.  The
juice shop had been rather slow in terms of visitors, but Tubba had been
 in there quite often as he considered it to be the ideal spot to write
his fanfictions.  That’s when he had an idea.

“I’ve got it!  We
can just use one of the minor league rooms!”  Dr. B gave the blooper a
puzzled stare. “Nobody ever goes in those, as they have no need to do
so.  Not that anybody would want to anyways, because they’re in horrible
 condition.”

“Alright, we’ll use a
 minor league room, then.  One problem, though.”  Dr. B scratched the
back of his neck and avoided eye contact with GB.  “I’m, uh… a bit of a
celebrity.  Yeah, people love me!  We’ve got to take care of your
problem fast, but there’s no way we’d be able to do that with your
friends swarming me for autographs!  Do you know of any way you can get
me in undetected?”

GB scanned Dr. B for
 a few seconds before he had an idea.  “Okay, I’ve got a plan.  I hope
you have a little extra room in that trench coat of your’s!”

Scully and Snoozer
were walking down the hallway when they noticed something odd.  A large
figure wearing a coat, with GB’s head poking out of the top, was
wobbling down the corridor.  It wasn’t until he had turned the corner
that they found any words.

“Does something seem a little off about GB to you?” asked Scully.

“The depression from
 getting the boot from the boo sisters must be getting to him, and
overeating is his only way to cope with the harsh reality that he’s
nothing but a failure,” Broozer concluded.  Hearing this, as well as
Scully’s agreeing sentiment, filled GB with a sense of victory.  He
could hardly keep himself from laughing at their stupidity, which he
would later learn was quite ironic in his current situation.

When they reached
the door to the red minor league room, GB informed Dr. B, whose head he
was perched upon.  They went inside, and GB jumped off of his physician.
  He immediately regretted this decision after doing a faceplant into
the ground from over five feet in the air.  Wiping away inky tears, he
looked up to see Dr. B pushing file cabinets and lockers in front of the
 door.

“Wow, you sure are
secretive with your business practices, huh?” GB said.  Dr. B, who was
still busy barricading the only exit and entrance, said nothing.
 Slightly annoyed, the blooper spoke up again, saying, “I mean, I
understand that you want some privacy, but is all of this really
necessary?”  This time, the doctor responded.

“Trust me, kid.”
 Dr. B turned around to face the squid, a deranged grin spread across
his face.  He opened one side of his trench coat, and GB gasped.  “It
is.”