Dear Valued Patient,

You may have seen that the Channel 798 local news team has recently been smearing my good name, Dr. Discount, by insinuating that my medical license is fraudulent. They’ve had it out for me ever since I attempted to run over one of their production assistants at last year’s Main Street Fair (he was directing traffic and I famously hate being told what to do by twenty-somethings).

I’d like to set the record straight on their accusations.

First off, what even is a “real” medical license? It’s just a piece a paper that some nerds ascribe value to. It’s the same as a Magic the Gathering Card, or Monopoly money, or the cease and desist letters I got from 20th Century Fox when I originally opened my practice under the name “Dr. Doolittle” and claimed that I could talk to animals; they’re all meaningless.

So what’s the difference between my medical license, which I printed out at my former college roommate Garrett’s house, and the ones some medical board printed? That Garrett’s printer ran out of yellow ink and we had to use a highlighter to color in the seal on mine? Big deal.

But unlike a medical license, one thing you can’t fabricate are the friendships I have with my patients. Making awkward small talk. Telling them that the reason we don’t have paper on the exam table is because the paper is so thin that it doesn’t actually do anything, even though the real reason is because most of my patients aren’t dirty/leaky/oozy enough to warrant the extra expense. And I make the ones that are leaking stand so they don’t get the table all gross and shit. And, of course, collecting a $45 copay (contrary to my legally changed name, Dr. Discount is far from a bargain). I hope these things brought you as much joy as they brought me.

By this point, you’re probably re-evaluating your experiences with me through the lens of these new revelations. I get it. It’s one thing if a doctor has their fingers in your mouth because they’re checking to see if you have strep throat, but it’s another if the person who’s doing it is just some guy who happened to own a lab coat, was in big trouble with the IRS (and in the interest of full disclosure, the mob as well) and thought, “What the hell, it’s either pretend to be a doctor, or get murdered by the mob. Might as well give this ‘malpractice’ thing a shot.” Still, I assure you that other than my primary goal of misleading sick people and taking their money, I had nothing but pure intentions.

My patients are my best friends. They’ve helped me through my low points. For example, where would I be if most of them hadn’t agreed to let me crash on their couches for a few nights at a time after the mob found out that I had been sleeping at my office and I needed to lay low? I may be the doctor, but my patients are the surgeons; they opened my chest and filled my heart with love.

Also, at least four of them had to inject me with my EpiPen because they had nuts in their house and didn’t know about my allergy. If my throat wasn’t closing up in those instances, I would have been like, “Ummmm, aren’t I the one usually doing the injecting?”

So humbly, I ask you to continue to use me as your regular physician, even though I have no legal right to practice medicine. I realize that this is a bit of a tall order, and that is why I am reminding you that I have all of your medical records, and if Channel 798’s claims are valid, then I am not bound by any doctor/patient confidentiality. It’s up to you what you want to, but I’m just saying, it might be in your best interest to continue to pay me money.

Anyway, be sure to call me to reschedule your appointments this week, as the mob has burned down my office, and I am now practicing out of Garrett’s basement (he lets me work there, but his wife will not allow me to stay over because she also has it out for me after the Main Street Fair incident).

Do be advised, the basement has a bit of a waterbug problem, so be sure to wear some heavy shoes. We will need you to help stomp them after your examination. Garrett and I are pretty sure they’re growing stronger because they’ve been feeding on a can of Monster Energy that I spilled and forgot to clean up.

As a courtesy for the inconvenience, I am lowering the copay down to 40 dollars for your first visit back.

Love always,

Dr. Discount, (kinda) M.D