Pseudo-New Yorker

Legal humor here.

“Stop your bitchin’, girlfriend. Pedestrian medicine is here to stay, thanks to you know who. I’ve got a discount on heart murmurs that can save you real money.”

“We like to keep an eye on these babies until we get them broken in. Once you get past 54th St. you’re on your own.”

“I have to accept your interpretation of ‘ambulatory care’, Mr. Willis, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Those gypsy curses are a dime a dozen, Mr. Henderson. As heart murmurs go, this is barely a whisper.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Henderson, that under no circumstances will I stick you with a great big needle like the one you saw in Pulp Fiction. Mr. Tarantino has a vivid imagination, but not an accurate one.”

“If you think you can replace me with a five dollar app on your iPhone, Mr. Henderson, you go right ahead. But until you do, I’ll keep charging fifty bucks a block. Because I’m worth it.”

“I’d say your best bet is the Manhattan club with a caffeine-free ice tea. No dessert, no coffee, easy on the mayo, and no fries. And it wouldn’t kill you to go vegan next time around.”

“Who am I, pal? Someone who can see a heart attack a mile away, that’s who. The next fifty bucks you spend could save your life.”

“OK, we’ve established your normal heart rate. Now I’m going to read you a list of possible leads for a revival of Auntie Mame. You just keep walking and let me do the rest.”

“What you get for two hundred bucks is I take your gall bladder out right here on the street. But your gall bladder’s fine. Let’s face facts, Mr. Henderson. Prostates don’t come cheap.”