Bathroom Monologue: A Get-Well Voodoo Doll for Gerard

His last visitor was Lionel. Gerard's Mom held him to last so she could claim it was getting late and kick him out whenever it sounded appropriate.

Gerard's Mom stayed in the hall, talking with doctors. Lionel slid right around her, plopping in the visitor's seat beside the bed. His arms folded next to Gerard's leg, which was in a cast so huge it belonged in a cartoon.

"It doesn't look that bad," said Lionel.

"It's exactly as bad as it looks. It'll be at least a year. So much for the Stanford internship." Gerard folded his arms over his chest. "This blows."

Lionel leaned in all conspiratorial-like.

"Listen, I know you're not that into voodoo now that you're a scientist...”

“I was raised in voodoo. It's you who doesn't understand how it works.”

“I made a doll with a strand of your hair.” Lionel motioned with his hands as though playing with an action figure. “Hair’s got your genes on it, so it’s also scientific.”

“And what did you do? Fix its leg?”

“No, better! You know that nuclear test site?”

Gerard went a little pale.

“What did you do to my voodoo doll?”

“I left it at the center of the explosion.”

“You're trying to kill me?”

“No! See, the next day I drove out there in a hazmat suit and left another voodoo doll of you. Except this one was huge and green.”

“What?”

“The Hulk has a healing factor. He survives bullets and bombs. A broken leg is fixed overnight! Plus, who doesn't want super strength?”

“Lionel, you idiot! That’s not how voodoo or science works!”

“Good!” Lionel rose to his feet, punching his open hand. “Get angry! That’s how it works!”