In the white sterile operating theatre, he leaned in close to the anesthetized patient. His thin lips brushed up against the numb ear and whispered. "I'm Doctor Yesexy, and I'll be making you…beautiful." His breath smelled vaguely of lilacs and vodka martinis. He looked down gingerly at the metal tray table and carefully picked up a scalpel. "Nurse Vixxxen, get me a sponge, a bucket, and the boxes labeled 'extra bits' stat." Days later, John Perkins, formerly unconscious patient, awoke in a bright recovery room bed. He started as an overly anxious Doctor Yesexy wrung his latex-gloved hands and stared as wildly as a sex offender in Disneyland. "W-w-was it a success, Doctor?" The doctor hissed and smiled. "Everything's fine. Why don't you have a look under the sheet, eh?" "Wicked appendix scar? Chicks'll dig it, I bet." John looked under the sheets and pushed them back over him as he looked up in disgust and shock. "I…I have breasts." Mr. Perkins said with despair and confusion. He looked up at Doctor Yesexy. "Beautiful breasts, Mr. Perkins. Mammary masterpieces. I'm especially proud of the slightly upturned nipples." Doctor Yesexy visibly licked his lips like a hungry wolf. "I just needed my appendix out, you—you—" "Before you lavish my genius you should wait until the finale, my fine friend." "Finale?" groaned Perkins. "I have grafted a very exquisite vagina where your…well, where your asshole was." "You what?!" "I've had my way with it, purely for medical purposes. It's quite nice. You should be proud." John Perkins put his head in his hands and started to gently sob. "Oh," Doctor Yesexy said, putting his hand softly on Mr. Perkins' shoulder, "the tests just came back. Congratulations, you're pregnant." * * * * * Dr. Yesexy stared at the 3-ring binder that served as his portfolio and groped his genitals fiercely. "You'll see an exquisite job done on page three. He wanted a nose job." He passed the folder over the dark wood desk to the woman sitting opposite him. He watched for her reaction and never took his hand from his crotch. "That…that isn't a nose, doctor." "Yes. I told him it was 'free advertising' of sorts. Putting his new penis where his nose was." "Did you have to make it so…um…" "Big and crooked? I modeled him after God's Adam. Many people don't know what the world's first baby-maker looked like. I myself have spent a small fortune collecting ancient stone carvings. Prehistoric pornography, if you will." She sat in silence. "So, when can Nurse Vixxxen pencil you in?" * * * * * Dr. Yesexy sat in his office, looking at his lunch. He took apart his sandwich and gingerly fondled the slice of artificial bologna. He split it with his thin fingers and looked through the slit. He suddenly sat bolt upright and pressed down on the intercom. "Nurse Vixxxen! Call Mr. Smith right away. Tell him we've just gotten an opening for that sinus procedure he needs." Dr. Yesexy sat back in his chair. "They said an asshole didn't need teeth and laughed. I'll show them, eh! Oh yes, oh yes…" * * * * * Dr. Yesexy kneeled down and politely stroked her warm skin. His eyes, wild and buggy, looked at her face to her chest and back to her face. His thin cruel lips smiled before they joined hers. One hand delicately stroked her head, as the other seemed to violently move of its own accord down the front of his pants. Among the crowd, gasps of horror erupted. He looked up, eyes half-open, lost in a hazy fantasy. Around him, Tommy Jones' 10th birthday party abruptly stopped. Dr. Yesexy picked up his limbless CPR dummy. "…And that, children, it how you perform a…heh…oral exam." * * * * * Dr. Yesexy looked down at the unconscious Mr. Jenkins and wondered. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and dropped it with a definitive hiss inside his patient. Dr. Yesexy wondered greatly to himself why a priest would ask for a vasectomy. He smiled at the thought of pregnant nuns. Dr. Yesexy wondered why Jesus needed Mr. Jenkins' balls. He then decided that Mr. Jenkins needed them more than the Lord if he was to repopulate the waning number of "God babies." "Nurse Vixxxen! I need forceps, masking tape, and three extra baby makers. This man will truly appreciate having the extra daddy paste dispensers, he will…" * * * * * "I've made your balls like the Grinch's heart…" "You've made them three times bigger?" hopefully guessed Mr. Drake. "No," Dr. Yesexy replied casually, licking his lips like a starving dog. "Voiced by Boris Karloff. Tiny speakers where your kidneys used to be." "How will I pee?" the suddenly confused Mr. Drake expectorated his words harshly, now wondering what exactly the speakers would reply. "Not urine or the juice of the berry of Eden, when you go, you'll go with the bloods of heathen" chimed "Boris" out from somewhere. The thick baritone echoed ominously through the operating theatre. "Well, sir," Dr. Yesexy said, pulling away his O.R. scrubs to reveal a black fishnet shirt with the nipples cut out, "I'd say your kidneys have spoken for their themselves…" "But I don't want to pee the blood of the faithless," weakly whined Drake. "Then you shouldn't have been penciled in as the 9am," shortly retorted Dr. Yesexy as he exited with his very expensive human-skinned golf bag. * * * * * "What I'm saying, doctor…" "Are you not happy? The way I see it, your husband is very content with the procedure as it stands." "That's because he found two porn starlets to…to…to pleasure him," she choked out. "I didn't even know you could bifurcate a penis," she said, punctuated by a jagged sob. "And that is why I'm suing you for malpractice." Dr. Yesexy stared down blankly at his desk as she got up and walked out of his office unceremoniously. After a moment, Dr. Yesexy pressed the sole button on the sleek black intercom box. "Nurse Vixxxen! Do we still have Judge Fallon's number on file?" A moment of awkward silence, then: "Yes, doctor. Yes, we certainly do." "Good. The judge owes us for that discreet operation for turning him into a…um… whatever the opposite of a hermaphrodite is." * * * * * Judge Fallon could see the bulge of his crotch even under the heavy black robe. The subtlety placed ball bearings under the skin had had a startling and definite effect on his wife and his self-confidence. Money well spent, he thought as he stifled a nervous laugh. On the stand, Paula Dumont told the court how Doctor Yesexy had destroyed her marriage by destroying her husband's penis. Dr. Yesexy was wearing his surgeon's togs and a wry smile. His hands were placed neatly in front of him on the table. He was thinking about the double by-pass operation later and if a man could menstruate. Mr. Dumont sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench behind the doctor. He looked serious despite the fantasies his bifurcated member had opened up to him and were currently cycling through his head. "…and that, Your Honor, is why I demand punitive damages for emotional distress and grounds for revocation of the, eh, doctor's medical license." The judge shifted in his seat. He cast a confused look at Mrs. Dumont and then cut his glance to Yesexy. He tried not to smile. "Doctor? How do you address these allegations?" * * * * * Dr. Yesexy stood up languidly to address the court and the charges of malpractice. It seemed to him that Mrs. Dumont would be happy to have a husband with a two-headed cock. It appeared as if the doctor was wrong. Mrs. Dumont was prissily poised and seated at the table next to Yesexy's. Judge Fallon, one of the doctor's former and oddly satisfied patients, looked down at him with concern. "Look," Dr. Yesexy started, hoping to keep things like he liked them: informal and freakishly upbeat. "Look. Your Honor, the amazing new man that is Mr. Dumont, and the sad thing there that keeps yelling obscenities at me like it was Easter or something, I do indeed intend to challenge these erroneous and specious allegations." The Dumonts leaned forward in unison. The Judge rolled his eyes. "But I have to be in surgery. A man needs help with his heart and I must see if he can bleed from his 'love parts' like a woman." Doctor Yesexy reached into his togs pocket and pulled out his oversized black goggles and shook them violently about. "These are for the blood, I assure you. You should listen to me; I know what I'm talking about. I am a doctor after all." * * * * * The slam of the courtroom's door were accompanied by Mr. Dumont gasping, Judge Fallon giggling to himself, and soft sobbing from Mrs. Dumont. Mr. Dumont walked around the court barrier that divided the common area from the courtroom proper. He silently padded behind his estranged wife and cautiously put his arm around her. She started at the unexpected gesture but was too emotionally drained to recoil with disgust. "Damn you Rodger. I found a lump on my breast." "I know a great doctor you should see…" Weeks later, as Paula Dumont opened her eyes and blinked away the fogginess of the anesthetics; she saw her husband's face of hopeful concern and Dr. Yesexy's toothy grin of madness and sick pride. "Your boob death is gone. Also, you have a 'reverse funnel,' is what the Internet calls it." Dr. Yesexy turned to face Rodger. "You may now kiss the bride." * * * * * The cheap whiskey on his breath smelled like old nail polish. Dr. Yesexy wrung his gloved hands; the PVC grinding against itself was the sound opposite of seductive. "I was watching Junior on the Netflix…" "What does that that have to do with my colonoscopy?" asked a drug addled Mr. Moreno. "You had ass death, Mr. Moreno. Rectal cancer, in medical terms." Dr. Yesexy laughed like Tom Waits chocking on hot asphalt. "Ca-c-cancer?" The defeated tones echoed in the hospital's surgical recovery room. "Yes, but your ass death is gone." Mr. Moreno started to smile, but a soft mewling that came from under his bed sheet twisted his mouth with confusion. "What was that?" murmured Mr. Moreno weakly. Dr. Yesexy leaned in closer, running his tongue over his teeth like a hungry dog finding a steak. "That was the sound of…well, that was the sound of your butt crying." Mr. Moreno's jaw worked up and down, making Dr. Yesexy suddenly yearn for sushi. Whatever words were trying to escape from Mr. Moreno was indelibly trapped in his throat. "I had to take some amount of your guts out with the tumor. I had to replace them with something, you see. Nurse Vixxxen suggested that those wretched things might finally have another use outside of firewood." "Whu-whu-whu," was all that fell out of Mr. Moreno. "Cats." "You put cats in me?" "Why, yes. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And now, with your surgery a success, I'm ribald to say it was a fantastic idea. I may give Nurse Vixxxen a raise…" As Dr. Yesexy turned away from his "satisfied" patient, he couldn't tell if that new sound was Moreno crying or his lower large intestine needing a saucer of milk. Dr. Yesexy giggled as he made his way to his next recovery patient.