From The Journal of Dr. Rick Hightower, M.D., soon to be adapted into an ABC primetime drama entitled Hightower:
There it was in front of me, as plain as day. Well aware that my patient knew what she was facing, I went ahead and told her anyway.
“I know,” she replied.
I told her “We’re going to have to operate.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I know you do.”
As I strapped the nitrous oxide to her face, I told the room “ladies and gentlemen, we are sedating the world’s preeminent butt cancer expert. We’re flying blind here… Scalpel.”
Nine hours into the surgery, things got bad. The hot nurse said “she’s losing too much blood.” We all knew that, but something about the way that the hot nurse said it gave me the idea that would save mankind: RoButts.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she said, awaking from her sedation.
“Relax,” I said “you haven’t got any. You’re a top secret weapon now. A soldier from the future, here to save the present. We’re counting on you. Let’s take your new butt for a test drive.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“I don’t think any of us do, but we’ve got to stand up for what we believe in.”
“How can I stand? I have no legs,” she asked.
Holding out the mirror, I said “have a look for yourself.”
“It’s hideous,” she cried, taking in the mass of robotic wheels, blinking lights and weaponry.
“It’s the only hope we’ve got.”
“What are all of these holes for?” she whimpered.
“We’re still married, baby.”
“I love you,” she said, composing herself. “You saved my life.”
“I love you, too.”
And with that, we set out into the night. If you’re reading this right now, chances are we’ve succeeded. I can’t yet divulge exactly what I have created, or exactly what this means for the future of butt cancer. I can let you know that timing isn’t everything, but timing and proper lubrication are.
And now, she's gone. But next week will bring more challenges and adventure my way, I am sure of it.
That’s a lesson we all need to learn. I know I have.