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decided to postpone retirement.
I don't know for how long, but...
But when I thought really hard about it,
I realised,
there's only one thing left
to do when you retire,
and I've seen too many friends
do that very thing
just six months, a year
after they gave up their professions.
But you...
When we spoke just four months ago,
you assured me that...
I'm not ready to retire, doctor.
And if my wife can't rush me into it,
you sure as hell can't either.
Excuse me.
You gotta feed the meter, partner.
Yeah, well, I was just leaving.
A little late, though.
I do have medical plates.
Oh, right. You're that new doctor.
- Ross Jennings.
- Sheriff Lloyd Parsons.
You're a Yale grad, I heard.
That's right.
Well, it's just a school, isn't it?
That's enough, Lloyd Parsons.
A young doctor comes to Canaima
and you write him a parking ticket?
- What are you doing, Ms Hollins?
- What the whole town ought to do.
Your ticker tape parade.
- Thank you.
- That's littering.
Lloyd's been a bully since the 5th grade.
I ought to know, I held him back.
Walk me to my automobile.
Thank you for the swift intervention.
- How did you know who I was?
- We're neighbours.
I gave you a standing ovation
when you arrived.
Between you and me, Sam Metcalf
only recently gave up leeches.
He also recently gave up retirement.
We moved from San Francisco
with the understanding
that I would inherit all of his patients,
but now I have none.
No, Dr Jennings, you have one.
Honey, look at this light.
On the best day in the city,
we didn't get light like this.
Maybe they'll give me a show in town.
Don't they do that in little towns?
In the town hall?
"Molly Jennings, a retrospective."
Of course, I'll need to
take some pictures first.
There's good news and there's bad news.
Should we go in reverse-alphabetical
order and start with the good?
I'm seeing my first patient this afternoon.
She's a great old dame,
she lives just up the road.
Terrific. What's the bad news?
She's my only patient.
Metcalf changed his mind.
- What?
- Yeah.
He panicked, is what it is.
He decided that if he retires
he will lose his zest for life
and die within 48 hours or something.
But he told you.
We looked in 14 towns,
we bought a house,
you rented an office.
What are we going to do?
Kill him?
I have my fax machine.
I can work part-time from here.
A phone and a fax, that's all I need.
I'll call my old clients.
- Even with half my commissions...
- We're gonna be fine.
- Just like you said.
- With one patient?
Maybe I'll get lucky and all of her systems
will be ravaged by disease.
Kind of like having seven patients in one.
Fit as a fiddle.
Not a damn thing wrong with you.
Dr Jennings, I'm sorry.
What do you mean? Do you think I was
hoping you were ravaged by disease?
What about my high blood pressure?
You have above-normal systolic pressure,
which is less dangerous
than a diastolic elevation.
And yours is well below a level
that requires treatment.
Do I need these?
See, there's a difference between
the two types of hypertension.
And in my opinion...
In my opinion, Dr Metcalf doesn't know
his ass from a hole in the ground.
But Canaima folks,
they're comfortable with him.
They weren't always, though.
When he first hit town just after the war,
everyone was terribly standoffish.
- How'd he overcome that?
- He threw a party, invited the whole town.
If Sam Metcalf were half as good
at medicine
as he is at public relations,
he could run for the next surgeon general.
That's it. Next month,
when the afternoons are cooler
we'll throw you a party.
So, your one patient,
is she a walking health hazard?
I couldn't even find a wart on her.
Great, so what do we do?
Enjoy the fact that since we
no longer live in San Francisco,
we no longer have to refer to this as pasta.
- Skinny spaghetti.
- Daddy's not done.
On the bright side,
Margaret, my tragically healthy patient,


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