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"HIS blood, on MY hands!"

His blood is on my hands. It must have seeped through the gap at the top of the latex gloves. It's not often that that happens. There was that time with the really obese gentleman, but that was because he was so big. Carl wasn't that big, but I still have his blood on my hands. It'll wash off, that's not a problem, it's just that it's his blood.

Carl Chapman, the nasty little man that's living with my wife. No, my ex-wife. She left me for him. Carl Chapman, a car salesman. I was surprised to find blood inside when I made that initial incision and not oil, or grease, or slime. Nasty slimy little man. Hell, the Audi he sold me was a piece of crap too. The warranty wasn't worth the paper it was written on. He took my money then my wife.

I have to get this off my hands, I can feel it sinking into my skin.

I couldn't believe it when I saw him sitting there. I could see the worry on his face, and he had his arms folded on his lap across the lower part of his stomach. I took great pleasure in seeing him like this, and this only increased when I thought about what I was going to do to him, what I would have to do to him.

He wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, so I went to get prepared. It wouldn't be long before I saw him again. Oh how I was enjoying the moment. As I was washing my hands Andrew asked me what I was smiling at, he said that he hadn't seen me looking so happy in a long time. As much as I'd have loved to tell Andrew, I couldn't risk anything, this was my chance to get something back, and I sure wasn't going to blow it by being a little too loose with my tongue.

I put on my garments, my gloves and hair-net, couldn't go dropping hairs and things, that wouldn't be professional. The waiting was awful. Normally I didn't get this kind of excitement, it just happened as was necessary, but since I'd seen him coming in I'd been looking forward to cutting him open.

Soon enough it was my time. I took the scalpel in my right hand and pressed hard. I thrust my hand into the cut, before going back and cutting further. With as much roughness as I could get away with I removed the appendix. I made an awful job of the stitching too. That's going to be bruised and sore for a long time.

This soap is great, not a sign of his nasty blood on my hands now.

I wonder what the chances are of him needing heart surgery in the next couple of years? Sometimes I love being a surgeon.

If the twist was his being a surgeon with the man in for an operation, I kind of assumed that all the way through. Perhaps it's something in the way you wrote it, or maybe it's just me. I'm not sure...

Thanks for the comments.

I wasn't too sure about this one. I thought I may have made it too obvious, but that's probably because I knew the twist...

Very nice twist.

Good little tale.

Very nice Meka - One day i hope to be as good of a writer as you, sir, are.

My name is Carl Chapman, you cockface.

"Hey, Joel, how are you..?"

I used to know someone called Carl Chapman. He was a c0ckface.

That was an interesting short tale.

His blood is on my hands. It must have seeped through the gap at the top of the latex gloves. It's not often that that happens. There was that time with the really obese gentleman, but that was because he was so big. Carl wasn't that big, but I still have his blood on my hands. It'll wash off, that's not a problem, it's just that it's his blood.

Carl Chapman, the nasty little man that's living with my wife. No, my ex-wife. She left me for him. Carl Chapman, a car salesman. I was surprised to find blood inside when I made that initial incision and not oil, or grease, or slime. Nasty slimy little man. Hell, the Audi he sold me was a piece of crap too. The warranty wasn't worth the paper it was written on. He took my money then my wife.

I have to get this off my hands, I can feel it sinking into my skin.

I couldn't believe it when I saw him sitting there. I could see the worry on his face, and he had his arms folded on his lap across the lower part of his stomach. I took great pleasure in seeing him like this, and this only increased when I thought about what I was going to do to him, what I would have to do to him.

He wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, so I went to get prepared. It wouldn't be long before I saw him again. Oh how I was enjoying the moment. As I was washing my hands Andrew asked me what I was smiling at, he said that he hadn't seen me looking so happy in a long time. As much as I'd have loved to tell Andrew, I couldn't risk anything, this was my chance to get something back, and I sure wasn't going to blow it by being a little too loose with my tongue.

I put on my garments, my gloves and hair-net, couldn't go dropping hairs and things, that wouldn't be professional. The waiting was awful. Normally I didn't get this kind of excitement, it just happened as was necessary, but since I'd seen him coming in I'd been looking forward to cutting him open.

Soon enough it was my time. I took the scalpel in my right hand and pressed hard. I thrust my hand into the cut, before going back and cutting further. With as much roughness as I could get away with I removed the appendix. I made an awful job of the stitching too. That's going to be bruised and sore for a long time.

This soap is great, not a sign of his nasty blood on my hands now.

I wonder what the chances are of him needing heart surgery in the next couple of years? Sometimes I love being a surgeon.