"The Doctor"


	Quanta and Ula Quintos had great success with their fertility drugs.  The doctor had 
dosed them with a needle the diameter of a sausage straight to the offending organs.  They 
sprouted like orchards: first one baby then another, Ôtil they had ten; five from mama and 
five from him.  Little green children that came in fruit nuts that hatched to their healthy 
greasy faces.  
	The Quintos were overjoyed.  They wrapped the empty shells in wax paper and put 
them away as memorabilia in the big freezer, and bought lawn chairs to sit on the carpet in 
their apartment and watch the gambling antics of their little dectoplets.  Pino, Pucco, Fitorna, 
Fuscia, Rosco, Sino, Fatorna, and Miso: a Quinto dynasty!  Émore than they knew, for 
when Sino got pregnant, Fuscia did too.  In a week they had sprouted, five to each, tiny 
green shells, like spring chestnuts, fifty in number:  pint sized Septianuplets, gambling and 
rolling in the sun.  
	The Quintos were overjoyed, first a baseball team, now a town!  "Quintainia!", they 
proclaimed and painted a sign that hung on the door.  And next Sunday afternoon they 
brought the kids to the doctor.  "Thankyou for your needle as big as a sausage", gleamed 
Ula.  Quanta only smiled and rubbed his hands.  The doctor was gleeful, and began to take 
notes, and pictures, ask questions, and measure the topes.  The gambolers purred and 
climbed on his toes, and swung from his tie and crawled in his coat.  The ganders whistled 
and played on his shoes, and formed teams, and raced about the room.
	"What do you call them?", asked the doctor with sweat on his brow.
	"Well, they are Pino and Pucco, Fitornia and Fuscia, Rosco, Sino, Fatorno and 
Miso, plus fifty more that we hardly know.  But for short we call them Gambolers, and the 
ten larger Ganders.  ÉCome her Ganders, and bring your Gambolers!".  The obedient little 
fruits rolled into balls, and in little formations of six rolled with Ula down the hall
	"Doctor, a wordÉ", and Quanta pulled the Doctor aside, shut the door behind to 
speak quiet.  "I have one worry: what if the little gambolers beget two-hundred more 
themselves, and those gimbles, of a thimble size, beget one-thousand two-hundred and fifty 
besides, so small you could hardly see them under your foot, or in the crevices of 
floorboards, door jams and such?"
	"Yes yes, I seeÉ whatÕs your concern?", asked the doctor scratching his chin.
	"Well these one-thousand two-hundred and fifty tiny souls could beget six-
thousand two-hundred and fifty tinier kids, and so on and so onÑit is boggling to the 
mind!  The apartment full of millions and millions in time".
	"I wouldnÕt worry, because as you can see, they keep getting smaller, though more 
of them itÕs true.  And if you must you can stack them, or bring a few bags back here, where 
we can find a place, in the back, or the basement, or the office next door".
	"Thankyou doctor.  You relieve my mind.  Better get going with my wife and our 
spawn".