Kill or Cure

Yesterday’s corner time: 3 Minutes.

Dad’s foot is still causing him a lot of discomfort following the game of tennis that he played over a week ago.

Apparently, the pain increased to such a point on Friday that he had to go out and drink copious quantities of beer with Uncle Bill.

It appears that his injury didn’t hinder his movement between the bars. Although, according to Mum, he was having difficulty walking when he returned home, as he had to crawl up the stairs on his hands and knees. Poor Dad.

However, on Saturday morning, he claimed that the pain had returned and he had to lie on the sofa for the majority of the day. Worse still, the pain seemed to have spread from his foot to his head.

There was no way he was going to be able to make it to see a doctor, so the doctor would have to come to him. I went off to my cupboard to retrieve my medical kit.

Despite his requests for me to leave him alone, I could tell that Dad was pleased that he was at last going to benefit from some specialist care.

I commenced my treatment slightly unconventionally by giving him a haircut. I then tried to extract a tooth with some pliers. Finally, I tested his reflexes by whacking him across the shins with my sword.

Dad grabbed the sword’s scabbard and began to defend himself. Hmm, good reflexes but I couldn’t have him questioning my treatment, so a sword fight ensued. Naturally, I won this when I rapped him across the knuckles, forcing him to drop his weapon and surrender.

Dad had to call out to Mum to rescue him. I don’t think he appreciated my holistic approach.

Matthew.

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