Story Starter for Starters#2

"I don't like peaches and with pears I'm through.
" I don't like doctors, and I don't like YOU!"

"Should I be amused?"
"Doctor, you can be anything you want to be. Frankly, I don't give a rat's a..."
"Mr. Beckwith," Doctor Perryman quickly interrupted. "When did she start to respond in... ah, this manner?"
"I already told you doc. You not the listenin' type?"
"Tell me again."
Beckwith paused, eyeing the doctor up and down as if attempting, Perryman supposed, to find find some anomaly, some fault, some little label that whispered, "I'm not a real doctor. The real doctor is down in Half Moon Bay playing golf. I'm just the doorman at his apartment uptown he hired and gave a white coat to and oh-golly-you-got-me!"
Good thing the stethascope hung just right from Perryman's neck and that he had ordered extra starch in all of his gleaming labcoats.
"Good thing I shined my shoes," Perryman smiled to himself in mock relief. "And that the diploma framed in gold on the pale wall was from a real university instead of those mail-order ones. "Guess I'm really a doctor," Perryman's eyes answered when they met the grudging surrender of Mr. Beckwith's stare.

"I'm not stoppin' cause I'm havin' fun
"Billy Joe Gardner had better run!"
"Billy Joe?" the doctor wondered aloud.
"Classmate," Beckwith replied. "In her class at Frable. Poor boy ain't been t'a school though since Lutice here's been rhymin' on him,"
"Can't really blame him, the poor kid," mused Beckwith. "Ever since they found Emily Shivers drowned down the..."