Fletcher

 Perfect — let’s turn it into a narrative version of the scene, showing both Fletch’s inner thoughts (sarcastic, evasive) and Dr. Dolan’s internal monologue (professional, mildly confused, unfazed).



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INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE – DAY


Fletch sits on the exam table in a gown, legs dangling. He’s pretending to be “Mr. Babar.” Dr. Dolan enters, clipboard in hand.



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DR. DOLAN

How long have you had these pains, Mr. Barber?


FLETCH (thinking)

He didn’t even read the fake ID right. Smooth. Time to correct him without breaking character.


FLETCH

That’s Babar.


DR. DOLAN (thinking)

Strange name. Probably foreign. Better check spelling for the chart.*

Two B’s?


FLETCH

One. B-A-B-A-R.


DR. DOLAN (scribbling, thinking)

That’s still two B’s. Patients never listen.


DR. DOLAN

That’s two.


FLETCH (thinking)

Oh boy, a grammar lesson. Let’s play along.


FLETCH

Yeah, but not right next to each other. I thought that’s what you meant.


DR. DOLAN

Isn’t there a children’s book about an elephant named Babar?


FLETCH (thinking)

Of course he knows the elephant. Great. Just what I need.


FLETCH

I don’t know. I don’t have any.


DR. DOLAN

No children?


FLETCH

No, elephant books.


DR. DOLAN (thinking)

Sarcastic type. Probably nervous. Patients joke when they’re anxious.



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The exam continues. Dr. Dolan checks vitals, heartbeat, reflexes. Routine. He prepares for the next step.


DR. DOLAN

All right, drop your shorts and bend over, Mr. Babar.


FLETCH (thinking)

Here we go. The dreaded part. No way around it… maybe I can talk my way out—


FLETCH

No, that’s not really necessary. We don’t need to—


Dr. Dolan is already pulling on gloves, focused and efficient.


DR. DOLAN (thinking)

Patients always resist this part. Still has to be done. Quick and simple.


Fletch sighs, reluctantly bending over.


FLETCH (thinking)

Great. Now I’m staring at the wall, pants down. This is what journalism has come to. At least I’ll get a good story—if I survive.


FLETCH

You know, my kidneys feel a lot better in this position. I think I’m all right.


Dr. Dolan proceeds. Fletch’s eyes widen.


FLETCH

Moon River! Whew! Thank you, Doc. You ever serve time?


DR. DOLAN (thinking, unbothered)

Every year, the same jokes. They all think they’re original.


DR. DOLAN

Breathe easy.


FLETCH

Breathe easy?


DR. DOLAN

Mmhmm.


FLETCH (thinking)

Breathe easy, he says, while his hand’s halfway to my tonsils. Perfect.



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FLETCH

I was surprised Alan got that policy. There’s a history of cancer in the family.


DR. DOLAN (thinking)

Alan? He’s fishing for info. Not going there.


DR. DOLAN

There is?


FLETCH

Yeah. As a matter of fact— Aah! You using the whole fist, Doc?


DR. DOLAN (calm, thinking)

Overly dramatic. Still better to check thoroughly.


DR. DOLAN

Just relax.


FLETCH (thinking)

Relax? Easy for him to say. I feel like a ventriloquist dummy.


FLETCH

I saw Alan the other day. He was looking peaked. Are you sure he’s all right?


DR. DOLAN

I can’t discuss another patient. You know that.



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Dr. Dolan finishes, strips off his gloves, and writes a note.


DR. DOLAN

Well, I don’t find anything wrong with you.


FLETCH (thinking, relieved)

No kidding. Except for permanent trauma.


FLETCH

I’m sure it’s not for lack of looking.



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👉 Do you want me to push this even further — like a novel-style rewrite where the narration dives deeply into Fletch’s running sarcastic commentary in his head (almost like his inner monologue is another character)?


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