"Nip/Tuck: Another Season, Another Episode"  Smart upstate consultation office. Dr Troy: "Rev. Dalton, Tell me what you don't like about yourself?" Rev. Dalton: "My ballsack." Dr. Macnamara: "Your ballsack?" Rev. Dalton: "Yes. I want a furry ballsack as opposed to a hairy ballsack." The two doctors look at each other, puzzled. Dr. Macnamara: "A furry ballsack?" Rev. Dalton: "A furry ballsack, yes. I want a real fur graft onto my balls.... Beaver fur, actually." Dr. Troy: "Is this some sort of sexual fantasy, Reverend? Are you experiencing thoughts of bestiality... Self depreciation... I mean, Beaver? Seriously... Rev. Dalton looks blank. Dr. Macnamara: "Is this idea simply your desire to take the form of an animal? Does your urge manifest from a basic primal instinct? Rev. Dalton looks puzzled. "No, not all. I have made friends with a couple of Hooters girls downtown and they both prefer me to have a smooth ballsack before they will go down on me." Dr. Macnamara is shocked and offended. He holds up his hands in disgust. "We simply cannot do this procedure. It's against the whole morality of this place." Rev. Dalton: "Are you sure? I was of the understanding that you were the very best and specialised in the more contemporary requests." Dr. Troy: "Don't they just want you to shave that region?" Dr. Macnamara: "Rev. Dalton. There are what you say, 'contemporary requests' and there is pure cruelty. We would have all sorts of protests on our hands. I mean, where would you expect us to come across beaver fur for your ballsack?" Rev. Dalton: "I have that covered." He nonchalantly glances at both doctors and then gestures a finger for them to wait. He reaches down down to the side of his chair where he has a sportsbag. He pulls out a clear plastic bag which holds the dripping, bloody corpse of a stinking, rotten animal. Dr. Macnamara clutches his mouth as the smell reaches them across the table. He retches almost. He rises to his feet and orders the Reverend out of the room. Dr. Troy (leaning over the table): "Can I get the numbers of those Hooters girls?" Cue opening title sequence. Copyright 2005 Mark Farley