Word had got around that the new treatment was a panacea.
It was regarded as a miracle cure. One simple jab and whatever the patient was suffering from was fixed. It simply went away. There had been such a lot of publicity about the clinic opening and the new drug being made available that a large crowd had formed outside the building they had hired in order to begin their programme of instant wellness. The miracle man, that being the term used by the press, had set up a room for a speedy turnaround of patients. They were being ushered into the room and seated, while his assistant provided a constant supply of syringes, topped up with the amazing liquid.
However, on the day the clinic opened its doors, things didn’t go so well.
“Next,” said the miracle man, and the assistant brought in the next patient. After settling him in the chair, the injection was administered.
Within seconds of receiving it, the man fell out of the chair, twitched momentarily, then lay still.
The miracle man said, “Drat! Not another one.”
The assistant, kneeling next to the body, said, “He’s not breathing.”
“Put him with the others,” came the reply.
With that, the miracle man went to the door and shouted, “Next!”