The Pervert Foot Doctor
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Objavio/la fredgiannelli6
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Oh, God! God, sorry. I'm sorry.
Good, good. No, that's good. That's excellent.
I can assure you, Miss Claude, that your toe bone is certainly not broken.
It's probably just strained. - Thank you. Thank you, Dr Statham.
Using the old pre-radiology diagnostic technique of checking for broken bones.
All right, then. Here's the choice.
A bit of Peter up the pantry passage,
or holiday snaps of Crete, 1976.
Oh, Crete. - Sure?
Oh, yeah. - I'm going, sir. That's all that matters.
And you and we and you...
Is that what you mean? - Yes.
You evil bitch.
Look, you've got to watch out for him. He's after your man.
Oh, damn it!
I don't think I can go through with it. - Well, don't.
No, if I fail, I'm dead meat and I'm up to my ears in debt, so...
What do you mean, don't? - Well, just pretend it doesn't exist.
You know, like... There. Out of sight, out of mind.
Right. - Right. Blow.
Don't get any spit on them.
I forgot a doctor's pubic hair in my tummy.
Okay.
Hello.
Right, fuck off.
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