Work Text:
After working a dead end job for 50 years, Poppy achieves the funding to get her top surgery.
There was one problem.
Trying to find someone willing to do it, so, she searched far and wide and finally, she finds the surgeon willing to do the job, a reindeer named Rudie. She didn't think much about it, sure he may not seem like the brightest tool in the shed, but if he got through medical school, then he was trustworthy because he most certainly wouldn't be a surgeon.
So, she makes herself comfortable on the operating table as she waits for Rudie to get his supplies, and as she laid there, she notices something out of the corner of her eye. Something that made her begin to think this was a bad idea..
Her surgeon.. the dude meant to be responsible for giving her boobs..
WAS USING CHAT GPT. To learn what SUPPLIES he needed, and she has no idea why the fuck a surgeon would need tweezer to do quite literally the simplest thing in the world.
She turns back and immediately grabs her phone and starts texting, Rudie grabs a pair of fucking SCISSORS and notices Poppy texting.
“Uhm.. ma'am, you good?”
Poppy looks at Rudie with a look in her eyes that basically said: I'm not mad, just disappointed.
“Are you.. okay?”
“NO.”
Rudie flinched back as if surprised at her outburst.
“Uhm..”
“Just get on with the supplies.”
Poppy said, already accepting her fate as a doomed surgical patient as she leaned back and awaited.
She hears another toon come in, and she prays it's someone who knows what they're doing, until she hears the worst question in her life.
“Uhm.. how do I sedate her..?”
Poppy felt all hope evaporate her body as her life flashes before her eyes already knowing that she's basically fucked at this rate.
“I don't know, according to chat gpt it says that we should have her brain touch her skull in order to knock her unconscious..”
Rudie responded.
“But wouldn't we need to cut her head open?”
Perhaps it would be better to not waste the hard earned money she saved up on these two because she knew she was not leaving this room with a pair of boobs.
So, she got up, and began leaving the room.
“O-oh! Ma'am where are you…”
“I changed my mind, I am NOT doing this surgery.”
And she left. Just like that. Now she finds herself in a friend's car wine drunk out of a baby bottle as Brightney watched her.
“You.. okay?”
Poppy looked up at Brightney.
“I'm drinking Pinot Noir out of a baby bottle on a Wednesday afternoon because my plastic surgeon is trying to use chat gpt to learn how to do top surgeries.”
Brightney looked physically wounded at the idea of a person needing to use chat gpt for a surgery.
“Jesus Christ expectations have lowered tremendously..”
She hissed.
“At this rate life is just fucking me side ways because this shit is ridiculous..”
“Yeah..”
The two sat there in silence as Poppy continued drinking.
“Mind if I get some?”
Poppy hands the bottle to Brightney who immediately downs what was left.