(Montgomery is narrating)

“I’m Dr. Suggs,” said the babe, reaching out to shake my hand in that limp way that women learned from gay guys. For an older woman, Doc was easy on the eyes. Maybe I should get sick.

Dr. Rood seemed to defer to Dr. Hottie.

“We went through your résumé, Montgom’ry.” She skipped a syllable, but I took no offense; I’m sure she was a busy woman. “Y’all famil-yuh with the position description?”

“Yes,” I replied. “It’s kind of vague, though. I gather it has to do with tutoring someone who’s developmentally impaired.” I was careful not to say a retard.

The doctors seemed to get a little uneasy. They looked at each other, then back at the bright, young, well-hung interviewee.

“Um … yes,” said Doc Rood. “His name is Rico. He’s a very special patient; who’s recently undergone some very … special surgery.”

I get it. He’s special.

“Rico has a very element’ry vocabulary,” explained Dr. Suggs-with-Jugs. “The position mainly involves additional speech trainin’ and … well, companionship. Dr. Rood and I have taught him up to now. But we can’t be there all the time, and we think it’s best to leave him alone as little as possible in his wakin’ hours.” (She pronounced it “ow-uhs.”) “And we think it would be healthy for him to experience a … broader set of people.” (“Brawd-uh.” Elly May Clampett seemed to have trouble with her terminal Rs.)

“I have to caution you,” said Doktor von Roodenstein. “Rico isn’t toilet trained and probably never will be. But we have lab workers who take care of that sort of thing. I just wanted you to know that you’d no doubt be present when he … attends to nature.”

“No problem, Dr. Rood. I’m used to all kinds of disgusting bodily functions. I’ve got three sisters.”