<strong>THE FAT MAN</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Dr. Gonzo? Nah, sounds too much like a doctor of journalism. Thank you for your suggestions though, Rogers."</strong>The Fat Man was just explaining to Jackson and Julie that he'd invented a revolutionary medical device that would make millions, and that he was just thinking of how to market it. It was all a question of releasing it in the right way, at the right moment, and all of Hollywood would be lining up to buy one, then the rest of the world. He remained secretive about what the hell his invention was.<br/><br/><strong>"Doctor Boss! Just in time I see. You know, maybe I'll name my invention after you!"</strong>he greeted the tall WASP who'd just walked in, and was no doubt wondering what janitor and a nurse were doing with M.D.s. The guy obviously had potential, hence the Harvard cufflinks, but full of himself, a<em>macher</em>, The Fat Man thought. Hence the Harvard cufflinks.<br/><br/><strong>"Welcome to Coolidge Memorial, <em>DOCTOR</em> Boss. I was just saying to your new colleagues here that I prefer to keep things informal, but professional in my team,"</strong>The Fat Man smiled as he shook his hand.<strong>"So, normally we call each other by our last names only, except in front of the patients. The trouble with you is, I'm won't allow people to call you Boss on your first day. Or in your first year. Rogers, Markum, meet... Bob! I'd offer you a seat, Bob, but we're all out. Don't worry, I won't keep you standing around for long. We're just waiting for the rest of the team to arrive before we meet our patients."</strong><br/><br/>The blonde Latina Dr. Montero, who was clearly going to have an even harder time than the cool and collected Dr. Markum, hurried into the office, and before The Fat Man could chivalrously kiss her hand or shake it she was up in his face and smooching his cheeks. Very hearty and sweet of her, only slightly inappropriate, and given the charms of her body, only decades of professional experience stopped The Fat Man from affectionately squeezing her ass.<strong>"Just in time, <em>DOCTOR</em> Montero,"</strong>he stressed. He was enunciating professional titles a lot this morning, and the sooner he could drop them completely the better, in his opinion.<strong>"Montero, meet Rogers, Markum, and Dr. Bob. We're just waiting for two more stragglers before I start making real doctors out of the lot of you."</strong><br/><br/>The time was now 8.36, and The Fat Man was stubbing out his cigarillo as he impatiently glanced at his watch. Just at that moment, a lame attempt at a wisecrack announced the first of the latecomers.<strong>"Ahh, Doctor Clifford Harris! Glad you could make it. Your misplaced <em>chutzpah</em> reminds me of my colleague and good friend, and your direct superior, Dr. David Harris. Any relation? We'll just have to call you Cliff instead. Meet Dr. Bob here, Montero, Markum and Rogers."</strong><br/><br/>He got up, walked past his desk and shook Cliff by the hand, shaking his head with a chuckle.<strong>"A relaxed attitude keeps you alive on this place, people,"</strong>he advised them,<strong>"but Cliff, stop setting the good example for now. We need to get started instead of sitting around here kibbitzing. Let's meet some patients."</strong><br/><br/>Without any further ceremony, he wrote a note and shoved it under the nameplate on his door.<strong>"Dr. Goldwasser is doing his rounds. Report to him immediately, Adams and Mox. You have ten minutes, as of 8.46."</strong>Beckoning to the group assembled in his office, he walked across the hall and into B Ward itself. Stopping at the end of an old lady's bed, marked Mrs. H. Staudemeyer, he took her charts, held them under his arm and looked expectantly at his team.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://www.atlanticrock.com/images/Elba.jpg)</div><strong>"Good morning, Mrs. Staudemeyer. How are you feeling today?"</strong>he asked.<br/><br/><strong>"Go avay! No dishwashing on Sunday!"</strong>was the informative reply.<br/><br/>The Fat Man nodded and smiled.<strong>"Glad to hear it Mrs. Staudemeyer. Dr. Markum, without looking at the patient's charts, can you tell me what you think is wrong, and how we should treat it best?"</strong>