To break an appointment one day, Robert Benchley visited a hospital feigning an illness: "The doctor who examined him was the kind that interprets a hangnail as the early symptom of something obscure and hideous.
"'Lucky for you this case fell into my hands,'he told Benchley. 'I don't want to alarm you, but all we can do is prescribe in a general way and watch the effects of the treatment, although we don't know precisely what they'll be. Now, these pills...'
"Next day the patient was moaning feebly. 'Those pills!' he managed to gasp. 'Doctor, they must have been -- you don't suppose -' The frightened doctor whipped back the sheets. Benchley had glued pillow feathers from his shoulder blades to his knees."
Sources
Saturday Evening Post, Sept. 23, 1965
