Da Nang Hooker: Hey, baby. You got girlfriend Vietnam?
Private Joker: Not just this minute.
Da Nang Hooker: Well, baby, me so horny. Me so HORNY. Me love you long time. You party?
Private Joker: Yeah, we might party. How much?
Da Nang Hooker: Fifteen dollar.
Private Joker: Fifteen dollars for both of us?
Da Nang Hooker: No. Each you fifteen dollar. Me love you long time. Me so HORNY.
Private Joker: Fifteen dollar too beaucoup. Five dollars each.
Da Nang Hooker: Me sucky-sucky. Me love you too much.
Private Joker: Five dollars is all my mom allows me to spend.
Da Nang Hooker: Okay. Ten dollar each.
Private Joker: What do we get for ten dollars?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t’ing you want.
Private Joker: Everything?
Da Nang Hooker: Every t’ing.
Private Joker: [to Rafterman] Well, old buddy, feel like spending some of your hard-earned money?

Is there an oncologist in the Cubs clubhouse?

Evidently so. Manager Lou Piniella doffed off old #41 and exchanged it for a white coat and a stethoscope.

Nurse Hendry.... administer the chemotherapy stat! And have a surgeon on standby asap!  The tumor must be excised immediately before it spreads further!

Cancer is indeed a royal bitch. It contributes nothing toward its host living entity. It deprives nutrients and reorganizes blood supply. And it grows and grows and grows until it kills the very host it depends upon for survival.

But don’t take my word for it.

Listen to Principal Victoria:

I was diagnosed seven years ago. Cancer is… pure evil. It is a fat little lump that needs to be… destroyed. [turns and faces Wendy. Outside is the faculty parking lot] When there is a cancer, you have to “fight” it. You can’t reason with cancer, you can’t wish it away. Cancer doesn’t play by the rules, so neither can you.

Milton Bradley is a fat little lump in the Cubs clubhouse. And Dr. Lou needs to eradicate this fleshy diseased mess immediately.

Malignant Milty seemingly was feeling pretty sorry for himself prior to yesterday’s game. Evidently, Nurse Hendry took away his very best Cubs friends. And that left the lump lonely and hungry for fresh tissue to invade:

“We just don’t have that bond,” he replied. “‘D-Lee’ is cool. He’s quiet. But things change. I had a good rapport with [fired hitting coach Gerald Perry]. I trusted Gerald and I could talk to him, and he’s gone. I think I clicked with [ex-Cub outfielder Joey] Gathright, and he’s gone. So you just kind of feel like you’re on an island, and trying to stay afloat.”

What a load of bullcrap. Seriously, poor Malignant Milty is all alone because Gathright and Perry have moved on? And pray tell us what lifelong friendships were developed from 7 teams in a little over 9 seasons? Doesn’t Jeff Kent return those phone calls?

.237

That is most relevant lab number pertaining to the Cubs part time DH/full time diseased nuisance. Nurse Hendry only wished that a contagious sexually transmitted disease was the consequence of jumping into bed with this prostitute for $30 million dollars while leaving the still sealed rubber in the box by the night stand. But in typical Cubs fashion, the courtship resulted in a full blown cancer pandemic.

Make no mistake about Lou Piniella’s disciplining of Milton Bradley yesterday. Yes, the terrible at the plate appearances were annoying. Yes, the showboat move in the outfield was probably a little irritating. And yes, the frequent smashing of the Gatorade container and helmet heaving act (is the Cancer upset about not helping the team or is it really just a self indulgent show?) is growing old. But really, it is all about a battle weary Manager sick and tired of a pompous side show freak act persistently distracting the team from an already challenging season.

So Mt. Piniella finally erupted. Lava thermally kills cancer cells. A tongue lashing ensued. And the player’s uniform was ordered off for the rest of the day.

Dr. Lou temporarily excised the tumor from his team:

“I told him to take his uniform off,” Piniella said in his postgame news conference. “He threw his helmet off and smashed a water cooler. I just told him to take his uniform off and go home. I followed him up into the clubhouse and we exchanged some words.

“This has been a common occurrence. I’ve looked the other way a lot and I’m done with it. I’m not happy that this happened. But at the same time, it was time.”

Good for Dr. Lou. However, keep in mind that this was no way, shape or form, a permanent cure. Malignant Milty is expected to be in today’s lineup.

Unfortunately for Piniella, Nurse Hendry needs to read a few more medical textbooks and become an oncology surgeon. Dr. Lou can only provide the chemo and a little under the fire radiation treatment. And from time to time, Dr. Lou can temporarily stabilize the host from further metastasis by benching Malignant Milty. But sooner or later, the disease will continue to manifest and spread. Cancer always does.

No, Nurse Hendry needs to become Dr. Hendry and do what is best for the team.

And that is surgically remove Malignant Milty permanently. Cut bait and admit that little tryst in the off season was a terrible mistake.

According to Hendry, there will be a meeting of the minds before today’s ballgame.

Just remember Pincipal Victoria’s final bit of advice:

And you can’t listen to what anybody else tells you. You have to be willing to give up everything, because the cancer will take everything. Do you understand?

Nurse Hendry, you are being called to the OR.  Better bring those textbooks, a flashlight and a scalpel.

Stat.