Bufo

So this afternoon I am off to the Quack. Not, as it may be surmised, to have him look at my knee, though I shall take the opportunity to arrange an appointment for that, if necessary, but for the long awaited chryo clinic.

Your hero has a number of warts and it is time to get rid of them, particularly the ones on my head, before I start sitting on rocks in ponds, croaking and considering recipes for fly casserole. I must say that the concept of a chryo clinic sounds rather exciting, though I know it will be a disappointment in reality. Being close to vats of liquid nitrogen, with all the resultant steam, and having someone drop blobs of it on the offending warts is a little alarming; I have seen too many movies wherein some poor schmuck gets doused in the stuff and ends up shattered to fragments. I think this would be a poor end for me, especially so close to Christmas.

That said, with the state of the National Health Service, I suppose I should be glad that we warties are not being called together to peel potatoes and bury them along with toads at midnight under the full moon. I write this with some trepidation, because I believe that tomorrow really is a full moon.

Bufo

So this afternoon I am off to the Quack. Not, as it may be surmised, to have him look at my knee, though I shall take the opportunity to arrange an appointment for that, if necessary, but for the long awaited chryo clinic.

Your hero has a number of warts and it is time to get rid of them, particularly the ones on my head, before I start sitting on rocks in ponds, croaking and considering recipes for fly casserole. I must say that the concept of a chryo clinic sounds rather exciting, though I know it will be a disappointment in reality. Being close to vats of liquid nitrogen, with all the resultant steam, and having someone drop blobs of it on the offending warts is a little alarming; I have seen too many movies wherein some poor schmuck gets doused in the stuff and ends up shattered to fragments. I think this would be a poor end for me, especially so close to Christmas.

That said, with the state of the National Health Service, I suppose I should be glad that we warties are not being called together to peel potatoes and bury them along with toads at midnight under the full moon. I write this with some trepidation, because I believe that tomorrow really is a full moon.