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As the two brothers made their way towards the abortion clinic where Tammy had her procedure, Lester casually remarked, "Odd, I don't see a group of Jesusfreaks standing outside of here with megaphones and pamphlets."



"It's probably for the best, considering I really feel like punching someone in the cock right now."



"Well, there's a KFC about two blocks over. Deep fried, even," Lester chuckled as they made their way to the front entrance.



"Maybe later, but right now, we're doing what needs to be done," Morgan said as the doors opened.



Several women in the lobby stared at them, including the receptionist. Morgan broke the awkward silence by stating that he was here to have a growth removed from his lower intestine that was the direct result of an alien abduction and being impregnated with the seed of Elvis Presley. Unfortunately, the joke didn't seem to go over too well as the receptionist rolled her eyes and said, "Do you have an appointment?"



"I got this," Lester mumbled, walking towards the front desk. "I need to... actually, we need to talk to Dr. Lattemeyer for a few minutes. It's rather urgent."



"Do you have an appointment," the receptionist replied again with a much colder, arrogant tone.



"Is he here? Yes or no."



"You will need to make an appointment if you-"



Lester interrupted the receptionist, "Look, my brother isn't actually pregnant, my sister,"



"Doctor-Patient confidentiality policy-"



"I don't give a fuck what your policy is, IS HE HERE RIGHT NOW?"



The atmosphere suddenly took on a hostile demeanor as the receptionist slowly backed away from the desk. Morgan stepped forward and slapped several hundred dollar bills down. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Morgan interjected, "IF he is not here, tell us. If he is, we just need to talk to him for a few minutes. I don't think this is such an unreasonable request."



Quickly, the receptionist took the money and put it behind the desk. "He's in room number 5, but you'll-"



"5, gotcha," Morgan said, as the two brothers made their way down the hall.



"Never mind," the receptionist mumbled with an exasperated sigh.



The brothers quickly opened the door as Morgan blurted, "Lattemeyer, we need to talk. Now," completely unconcerned that he was getting ready to perform another procedure.



"GET OUT!"



"No, I think not," Lester countered, locking the door behind him. "We've got a few questions, and then we'll be out of here. It's that easy."



Morgan continued, "You tell us what we need to know, and... everyone's cool. Okay?"



"I SAID, GET OUT!" Lattemeyer screamed.



"We've established that you don't want us here. But we're not leaving until you answer our question."



"Fine. Make it quick."



Lester cleared his throat a little and asked, "You remember Tammy?"



The doctor turned pale and said, "You're not going to kill me, are you?"



"Of course not, you did what you were paid to do. Accidents happen. Who was she with."



"I can't tell you that, it would violate-"



Morgan unceremoniously shouted, "Fuck your policy for a goddamn second. WHO WAS SHE WITH?"



Silence.



"You can tell me who knocked her up, or I can just beat it out of you and call it a day."



"J-J-Jeff."



"Jeff who?"



"Avery."



"See? That wasn't so bad, now, was it?"



More silence.



"Okay, then. Thank you for your time, if we need anymore information, we'll make an appointment."



With that, the brothers quietly walked out of the room. As they left the building, one of the women in the waiting room called them a manpig. Lester giggled and said, "At least I know when to keep *MY* legs closed," as the automatic doors closed behind them.



"You know, Lester, sometimes, you really are an asshole."



"Original, or extra crispy?"