Mrs Lewell's pain

“Wake up Doc”, said Nurse Wozniak, shaking Dr Engels by the shoulder where he lay sleeping face down on his desk, an ether vaporizer by his side.

“Whuzzit? Who?”, he spouted waving his arms ineffectually at flying creatures visible only to himself before turning to face his nurse and accidentally lodging himself face first into her cleavage.

“C’mon Doc, the patients’ll be here in a minute!” she said and grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his face deeper into her cleavage with a laugh before turning away again. “Did you get anywhere organizing your medicine cabinet?”

“Course I did. Everything where it should be. I got the best stuff going”.

At that Wozniak laughed again, “the best of the stuff that managed to get itself banned for its unexpected side effects”?

“Never proven! Besides, they all sign a waiver!”

“Sure Doc, whatever you say. That looks like the first patient in now. Should be...", she looked down at a small clipboard, “Mrs Lewell. Her arthritis still bothering her I suppose”.

“Should be fine now. At least she’s not another one of these hucow wannabes”, said the Doctor with a look of uncertainty. “I gave her that prototype arthritis cure last week. What could have gone wrong? Quick nurse, take a look, does anything look different, has she got a hairy face like a gorilla or something? Does she look really pissed?”

“Relax Doc, she looks normal”. Wozniak tottered off on her impossibly high heels and opened the door. “Mrs Lewell. The Doc will see you now”.

“Thank you dear”, said the prim schoolteacher as she walked gingerly through, then carefully took the seat opposite Dr Engels.

“So what brings you back Mrs Lewell?” started the Doctor putting on as brave a smile as he could given his current hungover circumstances and bracing himself against the likely complaint that was to follow.

“Its about this pain cure you gave me last week Doctor, the new one for my arthritis”. Started Mrs Lewell. Although immaculately made up and dressed in a lovely fitted skirt-suit, a fine dew of sweat was breaking out on her brow and top lip.

“Yes? I had high hopes for that Mrs Lewell. It should have worked. High hopes indeed. Are you sure you took the pills correctly? Never after midnight and not with water. No, wait, that was something else. Emm. There was a waiver… you signed. Please, we can try something else.”

“No, no, no. The pills worked wonderfully. Absolutely perfect. Its the first relief I had in years?”, she said, but still there was some urgency in her voice and even a sense of desperation.

“Really”? Said the Doctor in surprise, “I thought they were all placebos. Sorry, ahem, I meant to say, yes of course they worked. So, what’s the problem?”

“I’ve ran out. One a day, they worked beautifully, I functioned as though I was half my age. But they only last a day, and the trial pack only contained seven pills. The symptoms are coming back and... I need more!”

“Ah”, said the Doctor, realizing just how desperately the schoolteacher had gotten hooked on these new untested pills and suddenly saw an opportunity. “Well, you see, you’re right, they are experimental, it might be quite some time before they’re on the market for me to prescribe normally. I suppose I could write you a script for some useless lotions till then. Could be years though I expect.”

“But I need those pills now!”. She wailed. "You've got to give me them!"

“And I need a blow job to get me started in the morning Mrs Lewell.”

"Wh... what?"