Toil and Trouble

I should get in touch with the ravishing Dr. Bartlet just for the sake of old times. I far prefer her brand of physio to the officially sanctioned beating that is an examination by Dr. Voght. In fact, now that I come to think on it that was quite the little Shakespearian drama: her, the unattainable one promised to another, and I, the star-crossed suitor suffering in noble silence, struck down by the fateful package meant for her lover. And now, as you have so kindly pointed out, we have further common ground in the woman we both have the equally strong desire to see choked upon her own entrails.

It is an exclusive club, after all. But growing.