DOCTOR: Come in.
Patient enters.
DOCTOR: Ah, Mr.-?
PATIENT: Whooping, doctor - as in the cough.
DOCTOR: Mr. Whooping, yes. Please take a seat.
PATIENT: Thank you, doctor. I'm sorry this was arranged at such short notice.
DOCTOR: No problem, Mr. Whooping, I had a last minute cancellation. So, what can I do for you today?
PATIENT: Well, I've been giving it some thought, doctor, and I want to give up smoking.
DOCTOR: That's very commendable, if I may say so, Mr. Whooping. Well, before I prescribe the most appropriate course of action I just need you to answer a few questions. Is that all right?
PATIENT: Certainly.
DOCTOR: Okay. Well, the first question I have to ask, of course, is when did you start smoking?
PATIENT: This morning.
DOCTOR: This morning-?
PATIENT: About eleven o'clock.
DOCTOR: I see. So, you started smoking this morning about eleven o'clock, and you've been a smoker for approximately [consults watch] half-an-hour.
PATIENT: It's a filthy habit.
DOCTOR: Well, it's certainly to be applauded you wish to nip the habit in the bud before it's even become a habit, Mr. Whooping. If I may ask, in the thirty-something minutes you've been a -ah- 'smoker' how many cigarettes have you had?
PATIENT: One.
DOCTOR: One. Did you enjoy it?
PATIENT: No, I had one drag and stubbed it out straight away.
DOCTOR: Mm. [Thinks] To be honest, I don't quite understand why you've come to see me today, Mr. Whooping.
PATIENT: I want to give up smoking.
DOCTOR: [Spreads hands in resignation] Yes, that's all very well and good, but you must understand that imbibing one cigarette doesn't exactly qualify you as a smoker. Do you worry, perhaps, that you have an addictive personality? Does it concern you that this one relatively innocent slip into an otherwise dangerously addictive and fatal habit will escalate until it becomes an all-consuming dependency upon tobacco? That this minor transgression, a moment of care-free, existential abandon, will spiral into a state of dependency whereupon you won't be able to get through a single day without that first, sweet intoxicating rush from a cigarette first thing in the morning?
PATIENT: [Shrugs] No.
DOCTOR: No. [Runs fingers through his hair in frustration] Right, well, I'll tell you what, Mr. Whooping; you hand over the cigarettes you bought this morning - I presume you bought them-?
PATIENT: Yes, I went down to the shop and said-
DOCTOR: [Cutting in, agitated] You place the cigarettes on my desk, I'll dispose of them, and you'll never see them again. How does that sound?
PATIENT: Well, if you think it'll help, doctor.
DOCTOR: Trust me, Mr. Whooping, as long as you never touch another cigarette you'll be a non-smoker for life.
Mr. Whooping stands up, takes a deep breath and reaches into his right trouser pocket. He takes out a packet of cigarettes and places it on the desk. He then reaches into his left trouser pocket to reveal another packet. He then empties his back trouser pockets, and right, left and inner jacket pockets until a pyramid of cigarette packets piles high on the doctor's desk. He goes to wipe the sweat from his brow when, urgently, he reaches into his back trouser pocket again and pulls out a lighter. He kisses it goodbye, places it on top of the pyramid and wipes a tear from his eye. The doctor reaches under the desk, pulls out a wastepaper bin and sweeps in as many cigarette packets as it can hold, not very subtly kicking the last few under his desk.
DOCTOR: Now, how does that feel, Mr. Whooping?
PATIENT: [Sighs] Oh, it's a weight off, doctor!
Mr. Whooping goes to slump back into the patients' chair when the doctor suddenly rises from his, grasps Mr Whooping's hand in apparent congratulation and pulls him back onto his feet again.
DOCTOR: Well, I gather it would be. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Whooping, I have other patients to see...
Mr. Whooping shakes the doctor's hand vigorously as the doctor unceremoniously ushers him to the door.
PATIENT: Thank you, doctor! Thank you! Thank you, doctor!
DOCTOR: You're welcome, Mr. Whooping.
He slams the door.
DOCTOR: Jesus Christ.
He crosses back to his desk and presses the intercom.
DOCTOR: Laura, you can send in the next patient now.
The door crashes open to reveal Mr. Whooping with a rolled-up £20 note stuck up his nose and a trail of suspicious-looking white powder in his hand.
PATIENT: Doctor, I've done it again!
Mr. Whooping sneezes.
Mr. Whooping sneezes.
-fin-
