<strong>DR. JACKSON ROGERS<br/></strong><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/dc/1968_Chevelle_SS396.jpg)</div>Jackson headed for his first day at work through morning rush hour in his '69 Chevrolet Chevelle. He'd bought the muscle car almost as good as new the previous week.<em>"Sex machine-ah,"</em>he warbled along with James Brown on the radio, bobbing his head. By 8:25 he'd parked and changed, and stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor of Coolidge Memorial for his shift on B Ward.<br/><br/>The door to Dr. Goldwasser's office was wide open, but he politely rapped on it anyway as he stepped inside. The Fat Man was quietly explaining to a woman about his age in a real life doctor's coat that yes, he was aware of the health risks of the little cigar in his hand, but also of those of his grandmother's legendary blintzes. Both were worth living a little dangerously, he reasoned.<br/><br/><strong>"Ah, Doctor Rogers, good morning!"</strong>the Fat Man greeted him.<strong>"Meet <em>Doctor</em> Julie Markum, your first teammate to arrive. Doctor Markum, this is Jackson Rogers. As the 'doctor' bit soon gets boring, just call each other by your surnames when you're not in front of the patients." </strong>Jackson checked out Julie with an amused grin, and offered her a handshake.<br/><br/><strong>"Nice to meet you, Markum, I'm looking forward to working with you. Looks as well as brains, I see!"</strong>He sat down in one of the chairs opposite the Fat Man's desk and pulled a small notepad from his pocket, if only to look motivated and eager to learn. His face betrayed the effort with which he tried to think of a clever-sounding question to ask.<br/><br/><strong>"Easy now, Rogers, save your questions for when the others arrive and we start our rounds. I'm sure everyone will want to hear the answer,"</strong>the Fat Man stopped him with a smile and a raised hand. He blew out a puff of smoke, flicked off some ash into a clean glass ashtray, and pushed it forward in case Jackson wished to use it. A subtle glance at his watch told him it was 8:29.<br/><br/><strong>"Well then, to pass the time while we wait for the others, I have a question for you 'terns. Can you come up with a short, memorable and trustworthy doctor's name?"</strong>he asked his two new understudies, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smirk.<br/><br/><strong>"Uhm... how about Dr. Jung? Dr. Foreman?"</strong>Jackson ventured, looking slightly puzzled. Doctors Zhivago sprang to mind, but he hadn't seen the movie and didn't want to sound dumb. And Doctor Strangelove didn't sound like the kind of guy you'd want to ask you to undress.