I visited the Doctor today. I have been going to the same chap for years, Dr Baljafray, or Jaffers as we call him down the club. He is a splendid fellow despite having a face like a badger's boaby.

I was feeling very peculiar. Out of sorts in fact.

Never one to sit around feeling sorry for myself I had tried the usual remedies. Getting honking mad drunk with the fellows down the Gentlemen's club, perusing the ladies in the local taverns. Nothing helped.

So I trudged into my appointment with Jaffers to see if he could shed some light on this mysterious issue I was having.

His receptionist ushered me in and I took a seat across from him.

Boomy, old chap. Lovely to see you! What can I do for you?

I pulled my well handled pipe out, lit it and gave it a suck.

I don't bloody know Jaffers. I haven't done a shit for a week and I feel a bit poorly. Any suggestions?

Jaffers got his pipe out too and gave it a few puffs then peered at me through a cloud of oily baccy smoke.

No shits and a bit poorly eh? Have you tried flinging a length up something? A lady or some such nonsense?

I sighed.

Yes yes, it didn't really help.

Jaffers made a puzzled hmmm. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of brandy and poured us a couple of snifters.

Have a drink old chap.

He passed one over. I downed it in one and gestured for a refill which was duly passed back.

I sipped at the second one.

Just can't put my finger on it. Reminds me of that time I came back from the Africa's with the yellow leg.

Ah!

Jaffers perked up at this. He stood and rummaged in a cabinet next to his desk before turning and triumphantly placing something that looked a little like a bent cigar on the desk in front of me.

This ought to do the trick!

What is it?

The exact formulation is a secret my friend, rest assured though that this will sort you right out!

It looks like a dried shit.

I am a Doctor my friend. I do not purvey dried shits.

Hmm.

I lifted the slightly flaky log and took a bite from one end. I chewed it slowly and with some difficulty swallowed the fetid mess that it had become in my mouth.

It tastes like shit.

Jaffers nodded wisely.

It is shit, it's Tiger shit! How do you feel now?

I made a fingers caught in tuggy winnets face.

Not again... Dammit man! That's the last time I eat shit in your office!

I slammed my brandy back and held it out for another.

And no, I do not feel better for having eaten a Tiger's shit.

You don't? This is most peculiar, most peculiar indeed.

Jaffers returned the remains of the Tiger shit to his dresser and pulled out an old book. He sat and started leafing through its dusty pages.

Don't worry old chap. We will get to the bottom of this. Perhaps the answer lies not in tinctures and potions but in here...

Jaffers tapped the side of his head meaningfully and held my eye before exploding into laughter.

Of course not!! In the head indeed. Where are we after all?... California! No. There will be a medicine, I just have to find the right one... Aha!

He stuck his tongue out and started mumbling to himself as he read down a page. He looked up exultantly.

Got it old chap. This should do the bloody trick and no mistake. Now, where did I put that boar's cock???

Jaffers started rummaging through various drawers pulling out jars of yellowed powders and phials of muddy liquids.

I stuck my bottom lip out and took a contemplative puff of my pipe. I knew I was in good hands. Jaffers, for all his fondness of dried shit was one of the best quacks money could buy. I blew a puff of smoke out.

I felt a strange stirring in my nethers. Good lord. Was the Tiger shit actually starting to work? I made to speak but Jaffers beat me to it.

Wait, wait old chap!

He was holding a glass before me. The creamy yellow contents of which swirled sluggishly as he held it up to the light.

I call this... The Boar's Lament! Quick, get that down your neck.

He held it out. I took it from him. A foul corrupt smell wafted up from it as I raised it to my lips.

If there is shit in this I will bloody well kill you Jaffers, I mean it. Kill you dead.

Ha! There is nothing as mundane as shit in that concoction my dear friend!

Hmmmph. Alright then.

I slugged it back. It was rank. It was foul. I tried not to chunder it all back up. I grimaced then shook myself. Jaffers watched on eagerly.

Well, you feeling anything?

I stretched a hand out. I did feel something actually. I felt...

I felt...

Magnificent!! Fuck me sideways and call me Emile! Jaffers had done it again.

What was that again... The Boar's Lament?

Jaffers danced a little jig.

Yes indeed my friend. The Boar's Lament, straight from The Gentleman Doctor's almanac. The formula is over three hundred years old!

I stood and stretched experimentally. There was no mistaking it, the cloud that had been bothering me had definitely shifted. There was an odd gurgling going on down at my back hatch and everything just seemed better.

There was a shouting from the outer office. We both looked up as Jaffers receptionist burst in.

Doctor, Doctor, some fellows have bought a man in, he has been struck by a car!

Jaffers jolted upright.

Bring him in, bring him in, let me see the blighter!

A couple of sturdy peons bought in a man clad in lurid neon cycling garb. He was clutching his leg and squealing like a baby otter with troublesome farts. They placed him on the couch next to me and doffed their caps to Jaffers before leaving.

Jaffers leaned over the man clucking at his injured leg like an insane chicken.

Oh dear oh dear, most definitely broken young man, yes. I will just have to pop next door to get some things. Back in a moment!

Jaffers toddled off. The door closing with a soft whump.

Hello.

I smiled.

The cyclist whimpered and looked up at me. I smiled wider.

I've just eaten a Tiger's shit.

His face rumpled in confusion.

What? You... what? Hey, what are you doing with that? Stop, Arrrrgrrhk!

Jaffers came bustling back in with an armful of supplies. The smile fell from his face.

Oh bugger, look at all this blood? And look at him, Is he dead? What the heck happened?

I took my pipe out of my mouth and beamed up at him from my chair beside the dead cyclist.

I have no idea old chap and if I did I absolutely couldn't say, after all...