Dominica May

This story previously appeared in Idol Meanderings, published by Fey Publishing in December 2011.

Doctor F. Alex Spencer held the abdominal x-ray up to the light and just shook his head, then turned to his patient, Patricia Baker. “That baseball is lodged in pretty tight. What on Earth possessed you to stick it up your twat?”

“Pardon?” Patricia asked, clearly not understanding the doctor’s coarse Britishism.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, however, was able to grasp such slang and grabbed the doctor’s arm. “What kind of doctor are you anyway, using language like that? It’s no way to talk to your patients!” He let go of the doctor’s arm, turned to Trish and added, “Let’s go, honey.”

Trish tried to stare down her husband, as if she were trying to communicate, “You’ve got to be kidding. I can barely move,” with ESP.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Doctor Spencer told Mark. “Not until we get that ball removed, whether you explain the events that led to its insertion or not.” He turned around and added, just for himself, “But I’d be surprised if it didn’t involve a bit o’ shagging.”

Mark looked at his wife, then to the doctor and back again. “You have to promise not to use that language again.”

Turning around again, the doctor tried to be more sympathetic. “My apologies, sir, sometimes I forget you Americans don’t have the proper grasp of the English language.”

“I meant your rudeness, not the specific use of the word ‘twat’, asshole. I spent a year studying in Birmingham. I’m pretty good with your slang.”

A nod of understanding from Spencer. He adjusted the glasses on his face and added an apology for the correct offence.

Mark slumped down in the chair next to Trish’s hospital bed and urged her to explain the details.

“Well,” Trish started, “Mark and I have been recently thinking about starting a family, but I’ve been rather concerned about the pain of childbirth. You know, pushing something out that size and all. So we thought we’d try and experiment with a few things first, to see if I could handle it.”

“So you used a baseball?” Doctor Spencer asked.

“It’s about the size of an infant’s head. We started with smaller things first, though, and I managed to push those out okay.”

This explanation seemed to knock the wind out of Doctor Spencer’s lungs. He coughed and spluttered trying to compose himself. “So this wasn’t a sexual experiment gone bad at all?”

Mark and Trish shared a confused look with each other. Mark turned back to the doctor. “Why on Earth would you think that? We’re only interested in sex for procreation. We’re not weirdos.”

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