Dream Job

by Steve Mitchell

“Excuse me,” Dr. Jim stood at the information desk, “I’m looking for room 202.  It’s my first day. I’m very excited. This is my dream job.”

The woman behind the desk smiled. “Room 202 is right behind you.”

“Ah! Thank you.” Dr. Jim turned and extended  his hand.  “Dr. Bill? How do you do?  It’s my first day.”

“Of course,”  they shook hands.  “Do you have any questions before we start?  I’m here primarily to assist.”

“No, thank you.  I’m ready.”  Dr. Jim approached the bed.  “Good morning, Sir.  I’m your physician.  It’s my first day.  I’m very excited.  This is my dream job.  And your name is?”

The older man in the bed said nothing.

“Your name, Sir.  What is your name?”

“It’s …I’m -”

“Just tell me your name.  Tell me your NAME!  WHAT IS YOUR NAME?  Oh, never mind.”  Dr. Jim reached behind his back and pulled forth a wood saw, five feet long with a hundred sharp teeth glinting hard light.  He held the saw over his head and yelled, “TIME TO OPERATE!”

With a start, the older man opened his eyes wide.  He held one hand up and croaked, “no…”  Then he disappeared.

“What?”  Dr. Jim looked around.  “Where’d he go?”

Dr. Bill sighed.  “Well, you scared him pretty good.”


“So, you can’t just scare them like that.  They wake up.”

Nurse Gladys added, “Terrible bedside.  But, to be fair, even when they don’t wake up, we can’t get much done.  They tend to wander off or fly around.”

Dr. Bill shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.”  They stood in his office.  “We’re not in the business of scaring awake our patients.”  He sighed again.  “I’m afraid, Dr. Jim, your services are no longer required.”

“But -”

“This is a dream job, not a nightmare job.”

“I know, but -”

“You’re fired Dr. Jim.”

“If I could just -”

“YOU’RE FIRED!!” Dr. Bill heaved a giant axe with dancing curls of flame and swung it down toward Dr. Jim’s head.

“No WAIT!”   And Dr. Jim disappeared.


© Steve Mitchell 2015