The man on the operating table feels his stomach turn over as a nurse walks toward him with the dreaded cone in her hand. "Ugh!"' says he (gulp). "Ether!''
"Oh, dear, no," chirps the cherub. "Violets."
There was a girl he used to send violets to. (Sniff! Sniff!) What was her name? "Roses are red, violets blue." (Sniiiiiff!) Not blue—purple—but very pleasant and sleep-provoking. Raquel Meller is standing on his nose singing to him, throwing violets all over his face. ... As the surgeon begins slicing him open he...
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