Tuesday, June 9, 2009

The Nadals Consult a Medicine Man (Humor)


SATIRE — Tony Nadal was impatient. "Vamos, Rafa! We are going to miss di appointment!" Behind him Rafael Nadal hobbled along grimacing in pain.
Tony Nadal: Now let me do all the talking. I paid a lat of money so we could see dis specialist.
Es name es Doctor Hook! He speak different in English so let me andle dis! Buenos Dias, Doctor Hook!
Dr. Hook: Hey mannnn! How is it hanging? Peace to you and the dude in the bandanna man. Far out, reminds me of my days in Death Valley, Cali-forn-i-a!!
Tony Nadal: Hola, Doctor. We came to see jou bout my nephew's knis.
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, right on. Hey man, I saw you on the tv, man. You lost in that tennis match against that army brush-cut guy. That totally sucked, man.
Tony Nadal: Jes, tankyu...we need to get heem back in form for da Wimbledon tennis in da two week.
Dr. Hook: Right on, man. The GRASS tournament. I love GRASS, man. I love layin in it, playin in it, and smokin it. Grass heaven, man!
Tony Nadal: Jou say jou can do sometheeng for heem!
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, man. I consulted my doobie Mr. Peyote and wow, I got a real vision about how to help your man be the man, man.
Tony Nadal: Ok, so whad do we nid to do?
Dr. Hook: You godda trust me, man. I got something for your blood man, but he needs to trust me and believe me, your boy will be king. Do you trust me, man?
Tony consults his nephew. They go back and forth. Finally, Tony comes back to the Doctor.
Tony Nadal: Ok, we trus you. Tell us what we do now.
Dr. Hook: Get your boy up here on the table.
Nadal sits up on the table. Dr. Hook looks at his upper body.
Dr. Hook: Awesome abs, man. I would kill for this body when the surf's up.
Rafael Nadal: Que? (He looks at his Uncle Tony who shrugs it off)
Dr. Hook: Ok here's the deal, man. He has got excellent upper body strength and that is important. I have got a special tool for his knees, man.
I am glad I have your trust because I don't normally do this. I need to ask you a few question first.
Tony Nadal: Chure!
Dr. Hook: Okay, man. First, I can make it so that he will compete and probably win the French Open for the next ten years.
All his present competitors will not be able to compete with him. His knees will no longer be an issue.
Tony Nadal: Jes, Jes, Jes!!! Dis is what we want.
Both Nadals are excited. Dr. Hook gets out a huge heavy hammer.
Dr. Hook: This is gonna hurt, but I have to hit the specific part of the knee so it is important that your boy does not move too much.
Tony Nadal explains it to his nephew who closes his eyes and braces for the pain. Half an hour later, Rafa is still in agony with his knees.
Dr. Hook comes out with a large bag full of green substance and a wheelchair.
Dr. Hook: Sit him in the wheelchair and have him smoke this marijuana, man. Don't worry, man—it's legal if you are using it for medication and trust me—he needs it.
Tony Nadal: So tell me Doctor, when hees knis going to get better?
Dr. Hook: Oh, his knees are fu**ed, man. He will never walk again. The great thing is that he can compete in the wheelchair division of all the Grand Slams, man.
His upper body strength and topspin shots will mean he will be a great champion for the next ten years.
Tony Nadal's eyes went livid with rage and he immediately chased the doctor out of the clinic and down the street. Rafa was trying to keep up in his wheelchair.
Tony Nadal: I gonna keel you if I catch you. (Looks behind him) Vamos, Rafa!!!
Dr. Hook: Well, at least this time, it is not the whole village with torches, man. (He sniffs) Grass season is approaching man, and I am getting a whiff of the good stuff due North-east.
Dr. Hook disappears leaving Tony Nadal out of breath with Nadal approaching.
Tony sits on Nadal's lap.
Tony Nadal: Jou training starts right now. Vamos, back to town. Vamos!!!
And so, a new life of tennis domination awaited the number one seed.
The End.

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