"All right, nurse," the doctor said, "fit the mask to his face. As soon as the body's relaxed...." "You leave that body alone," a pert feminine voice said tartly. "That body happens to belong to me, for what it's worth, and I don't want it tampered with. I particularly don't want it relaxed. I want it alert and twitching in every fibre, and if you don't leave it alone I'm going to lay into the bunch of you bare fisted!" A tense silence overtook the group around the operating table. The doctors looked at each other, then turned to observe the dismaying redhead who had mysteriously appeared just behind them. "How did you get in here?" the first doctor said uncertainly. "I'm the owner of that body you are flinging about there," Toffee said hotly, shifting the gadget under her arm and placing a hand on her hip. "That body's mine right down to the last molecule and I've come to fight for it if I have to." * * * * * Marc sat up under the relaxed grips of the doctors, his face scarlet. "Why do you have to go around telling people things like that?" he asked plaintively. "I could put it another way," Toffee said. "Dirtier. For instance...." "No!" Marc cried. "It's dirty enough already." The doctor turned to Marc. "Who is this woman?" "I don't know," Marc lied quickly. "I've never seen her before in my life. Why don't you throw her out of here?" "Why, you lying old ingrate!" Toffee flamed. "For two cents I'd climb up there on that table and perform a few operations of my own!" "Madam!" Marc said distantly, "whoever you are, do you really think you ought to take on in public in this brazen way?" "I'll take you on in public, no holds barred, you thin-nosed phony," Toffee gritted. "You don't know what brazen is yet!" The doctor turned to the nurse. "Call the orderlies and have this woman removed," he said. "And have them give her a blanket or something to wear. We can't delay the operation another moment. I'll give the anaesthetic myself." "Hey!" Marc yelled. "Toffee...." "Go ahead, doctor," Toffee said with evil satisfaction. "Rip him open. Slit him from ear to ear and top to bottom. I won't lift a finger." "No!" Marc cried. He turned to Toffee in panic. "It'll mean the end of both of us!" "Pardon my girlish laughter," Toffee said. "It's worth it, dogmeat, to see you get yours after the way you've treated me. Either you fork over that lanky frame of yours, or you're going to be out of frames entirely. That's the way it stacks up." "Do you have to be so vulgar about it all?" Marc asked weakly. "With all this talk about bodies and frames, I'm beginning to feel like just so many soup bones displayed on a counter." "That's exactly the parallel I've been searching for," Toffee said complacently. "In fact if there's anything vulgar in all this, it _is_ your body. Come to think of it, it suddenly strikes me as so vulgar I'm no longer interested in it."