Doctors have always had our best interests in mind, politically speaking.
“You’re coming at it the wrong way, Dr. Strangelove,” Dr. Carson says. “What we have to stop and think about is that we have weakened ourselves militarily to such an extent that it affects all our military policies.”
“I will not be weak,” Doc Oc says as he uses his mechanical arms to fuse all four corners of the sign to the billboard. “At least I have improved. I am now one with my arms.”
No one acknowledges Otto’s masturbatory ego strokes. When you have six arms, that sort of thing gets… awkward.
“Mr. Potential Future President,” Dr. Strangelove says, “a broad application of Otto’s arms enriched with nuclear waste is not only possible, it is essential especially if you believe what you said about… Otto? Which country’s name must we drop in order to convince him?”
“Iran.”
“Iran gets a nuclear device, Dr. Carson. Deterrence is the art of producing in the mind of the enemy the fear to attack. And so, because of the automated and irrevocable decision-making process which rules out human meddling, our Doomsday machine is terrifying, simple to understand, and completely credible and convincing to… whoever it was you’re afraid of.”
“Iran,” Dr. Octavius says.
“Iran.”
“This is good,” Dr. Ben Carson says. “I could test this on Trump. There’s a group of people who would like to silence everybody and have everybody go along to get along, but that’s not going to be very helpful for us in the long run, boys, in terms of solving our problems. And somebody has to be courageous enough to actually stand up to, you know, the bullies. To speak up! Bullies like this guy, Donald Trump, he probably deserves what’s about to happen. We can beat him up and that gives us the right to.”
They walk awhile, admiring the rustic hills and gaunt cows.
Dr. Carson’s phone rings. The contact card reads Peter Parker. Dr. Carson answers it.
“Uncle Ben?”
“Yeah, Pete?” Dr. Carson asks.
“Can you please get out of the race?” Parker says. “You’re making our family and fellow intellectuals all look bad. And I don’t like the way some of your policies have taken a turn for the violent.”
Dr. Carson says, “I don’t mean to lecture and I don’t mean to preach. And I know I’m not your father—”
“Then stop pretending to be!”
“Peter, look. Your country’s changing. I know. I went through exactly the same thing at your age.”
“Not exactly, Uncle Ben.” Pete hangs up.
“Who was that?” Otto asks.
Dr. Carson says, “One of those activist kids who doesn’t understand that we have a great responsibility to use our great power at every turn.”
They walk.
A Ron Paul 2012 sign rots in the distance.
At the next empty billboard, Dr. Strangelove pulls out another sign: Make America Great Again!
“What’s that?” Dr. Carson asks.
“Sorry,” Dr. Strangelove says, “wrong bag.” He pulls out one of Otto shaking hands — four of them — with Dr. Carson. It’s a large bag. “You’re right about how we cannot be silenced, Dr. Carson.”
“I know! People all over the nation are starved for honesty and common sense,” Dr. Carsonsays.
“Of course,” Dr. Strangelove says, “Of course,” and draws a Hitler mustache on Otto’s picture. “That’s better. Dr. Carson, the whole point of our Doomsday Machine is lost if you keep it a secret. Why not tell the world at the next debate?”
“I’m not a politician,” Dr. Carson says.
“Glib does not equate with clever, Ben,” Dr. Octavius says.
A car pulls up. Dr. Gregory House gets out and flips off all three of them with double birds. It takes a second for Otto to turn fully around to notice the gesture — four metallic arms do tend to get in the way of zero-degree turns.
House says, “Why aren’t they done?”
“Be patient,” Dr. Carson says. “Political signs aren’t brain surgery.”
“They can be,” Dr. House says, “if they’re the ones I made. I’m talking about very cool brain surgery.” He points to the one of Otto shaking Ben’s hand. “Why the f—”
“I had the best intention,” Dr. Octavius says. He slowly shrugged six shoulders at once.
It was not coy.
“You had no intention of doing what I told you,” House says. “We need signs that move awayfrom ethics, not towards our real evil plan. I don’t know which of you has been gossiping about ethics instead of sex, but I hope they’re already fired.”
No one looks at Dr. Carson.
Dr. Carson says, “Quite frankly, having an uninformed populace works extremely well, particularly when you have a media that doesn’t understand its responsibility.”
“Truth begins in lies,” House says. From his trunk he draws new signs reading You need an incredible amount of confidence to go digging around in someone’s brain. The sign bears a picture of Dr. House shaking hands with Dr. Carson.
Dr. Octavius takes one look at the sign and says, “Brilliant but lazy. And arrogant.”
“I’m a cripple who works in a hospital,” Dr. House says.
“I’m a cripple,” Dr. Strangelove says.
“Shut up. No one likes you,” Dr. House says.
“But didn’t I fix you?” Dr. Carson asks.
Dr. Strangelove stands up. “Mein Führer! I can walk!”
“See?” Dr. House asks. “Only cripple here. You don’t think I’ve got a valid reason to be on a billboard or five?”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell people about me,” Dr. Carson says. “There’s absolutely no reason at all that physicians, scientists, shouldn’t be involved in things that affect all of us.”
“No, no, gentlemen. If you want to get a country to fall in love with you,” Dr. Octavius says, “Don’t feed them pictures of Greg: they’ll think about the war on drugs. Feed them poetry. Political correctness.”
“There is no such thing as a politically correct war,” Dr. Carson says.
“Now those were ten wasted words,” Dr. House says. “Hostility makes me shrink up like a… I can’t think of a non-sexual metaphor.”
“Keep your passion,” Dr. Carson says. “Don’t lose it—we need people of passion to take back our government.”
“I bet you do, big boy,” House says.
Dr. Carson says, “The president works for us and we need to remember that. Dr. Strangelove? Tell me more about deterring Trump with this bomb of yours.”
“Well,” Dr. Strangelove says, now pacing, “based on the findings of the report, my conclusion is that my doomsday device is not a practical deterrent for reasons which as this moment must be all too obvious.”
House says, “He means if we used it on Trump, we’d all slowly starve to death in our own filth but at least we’d be happy.”
“See there?” Dr. Carson says. “Look on the bright side! Even if we detonate my doomsday device against our enemies—”
“Iran, right?” Dr. Strangelove asks.
“Iran,” says Otto.
“I ran out of my secret-secret-stash, by the way,” Dr. House says, “Does anyone—”
“I’ll write you a script,” Dr. Carson says. “But yes, Iran. And others. I believ things are always going to work out, even if in the beginning it doesn’t look like they are working out. I know in the long run they are going to work out, and it’s going to be fine!”
“Even with Trump?” Dr. Octavius asks.
“Even with… sure.” Dr. Carson says.
House says, “It’s people like Trump who killed Copernicus.”
A blue telephone booth appears. A man in a bowtie gets out. “Galileo.”
“Who are you?” House asks.
“I’m The Doctor.”
“No, I am,” say the other four.
The Doctor says, “From very recent experience, I can say it was not Copernicus but Galileo. And Bernie wins, by the by.” The Doctor gets back in the Tardis and disappears.
“Who?” Dr. Strangelove asks.
“Socialist,” Dr. Carson says.
“I like him already,” Dr. Strangelove says.
Otto scoffs.
“Copernicus, Galileo. Either way people like Trump killed him,” House says.
“The Doctor’s right: it’s Galileo and they just locked him up,” Otto says.
“Nobody likes a showoff, Otto, hang my damn signs and get your fat face off the highway. No one wants to read ‘Ben Carson for President’ next to your mug. It’ll force them to think of how your arms spasm uncontrollably and you have a mild facial twitch.”
Dr Carson says, “Guys, we’ve reached a point where people are actually afraid to talk about what they want to say, because somebody might be offended. We’ve got to get over this sensitivity. I want openness from everyone here on out.”
Dr. Strangelove says, “In that case, Sir?”
“Yes?” asks Dr. Carson.
“I have a plan…” Dr. Strangelove, feeling healed, keeps repeating the phrase “leading from a position of strength.” House, feeling inspired, gives a Miss America wave in return. Otto, feeling revived, sings a singalong song about expanding Gitmo.
Dr. Carson takes notes, missing more calls from Peter.
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