Let's Imagine: Jill Stein Treats Trump's Physician Dr. Harold Bornstein

2016 Presidential Election
Let's Imagine: Jill Stein Treats Trump's Physician Dr. Harold Bornstein

Dr. Jill Stein ascended the rope ladder to her secret medical tree house, where she practiced secret medicine. Hand over hand, clog over sensible clog, she climbed.

Finally, after moving in some more ways that would be boring to describe, she was in the treehouse, surrounded by all the tools of medicine, and plywood. Waiting for her there was a secret patient, a woman in her 30s clothed in a garment made entirely of sensible clogs.

"Hello comrade," said Dr. Stein. "What's troubling you?"

"I'm afraid I have brain cancer and autism," said the woman.

Dr. Stein sniffed the air. "What makes you think that?" she asked. "Wifi and vaccines went into you?"

"Yes," replied the clog-clad patient. "Both went into me, in this modern world!"

"I wouldn't worry," soothed Dr. Stein. "Though I myself equivocate on the safety of these things, I do so only for political reasons. Both are safe."

"That soothes me," said the patient. "But it is wrong for you to deceive us for politics! I will tell the Huffington Post of this betrayal!"

"Oh no you won't, jerk" rejoined Dr. Stein, upon which she pressed a button on the stethoscope she had the whole time, even though it wasn't mentioned. A trap door opened under the patient, who plummeted screaming into a deep pit filled with non-GMO vegetables and free colleges where she was very happy to live forever.

Dr. Stein sniffed the air. It smelled pretty good. She pressed another button on her stethoscope and said into it: "Florence, please send in my next patient."

Shortly thereafter a man hoisted himself past the final rung of the rope ladder and did some more moves until he was standing up.

The man was unremarkable except for his remarkable hair, which was almost exactly like Jill Stein's, which was the only weird thing. He was maybe in his fifties or sixties?

"Hi," said the new man patient who was just described. "I'm Dr. Harold Bornstein, Donald Trump's personal physician and gastroenterologist. I accept most insurance, and I'm in trouble."

"Hi Harold," said Dr. Stein, as if she were greeting an old friend. "We're old friends, remember? From doctor camp?"

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Dr. Bornstein. "Jill! You were the only one that helped me when I sprayed blood all over the surgical cabana."

"Yes," said Dr. Stein, remembering. "That was a funny mess."

"Help me again," pled Dr. Bornstein. "Please."

"What's the matter, brain cancer and autism?" asked Dr. Stein.

"Worse," said Dr. Bornstein gravely. "I'm involved in politics."

"Ah yes, my previous patient foreshadowed that this would be your trouble. Well, you've come to the right place. In this secret medical tree house I not only heal in secret, I also dispense political wisdom as the most successful medical doctor in politics besides arguably Howard Dean and if you go by book sales, Ben Carson."

"That sounds perfectly convenient for me," said Dr. Bornstein. "My problem is that I wrote an absurd letter with medically questionable assertions about Donald Trump's health for all the world to see, and now I am getting consequences. People are calling my doctor business, but they don't want me to doctor on them. They only want to talk about this letter. All I did was something maybe unethical so a rich guy would pay me. Now all of a sudden that's a problem, just because it's Donald Trump? How is that fair?"

"Well, it's pretty fair," reasoned Dr. Stein. "But I will still help you. All you must do is say Big Pharma made you do it. Most people hear 'Big Pharma' and they'll swallow whatever verb and predicate you put on the end, if it sounds bad."

Dr. Bornstein brightened. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "What an excellent lie for me to tell. Thank you, Jill."

"Don't mention it," replied Dr. Stein graciously. "Anything else I can help you with?"

"Nope, I'm all set," said the visibly relieved possibly unethical doctor.

"Excellent. Now if you'll just plummet down that chute to your left, Florence will take your copay," said Dr. Stein warmly.

"Thanks again Jill," said Dr. Bornstein as he plummeted.

Dr. Stein smiled and sniffed the air one last time within the time constraints of this story. It still smelled the same.


Let's Imagine is a thing we do when we want to imagine a zany scenario taking place between public figures, which didn't actually happen, probably.


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