"Get away from me!" Marc snarled. "Don't you touch me, you Judith Iscariot!"
"Oh, dear!" Julie wailed. She held our a hand. "I'll get a doctor, the one down the block. Don't do anything. I'll be right back." She started toward the door.
"Tell him how it happened!" Marc called after her spitefully. "Tell him how you kicked your own husband in the...!"
But the door slammed as Julie hurried out of the house and down the steps.
Marc returned his hands gingerly to his pulsing bottom and stared gloomily at the floor.
"Damn!" he said. "Damn, damn, damn!"
The doctor strapped a final length of adhesive across Marc's back and helped him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
"It may be tender for a day or two," he said. He helped Marc into his pajama coat. "You'll be all right, though. You can have Mrs. Pillsworth take that tape off for you at the end of the week."
"I'll wear it to my grave," Marc snapped, "before I'll permit that woman to touch me again."