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for this round. (2/11 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (2/11 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (2/13 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
for this round. (1/7 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/7 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/8 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
for this round. (1/8 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/9 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
for this round. (1/9 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/9 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
for this round. (1/10 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!)
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for this round. (1/11 accepted). (You can't vote for yourself!). Portrait of Crystal109: . Portrait of famous: . Portrait of Haplay: . Portrait of Kalimeris: . Portrait of LaZorra: . Portrait of LuckyWizard: . Portrait of Lynette: . Portrait of Maryam: . Portrait of niekie: . Portrait of Nyperold: . Portrait of Sam: . Portrait of TalkingDog: . Portrait of ThePhan: . Portrait of Ticia: . Portrait of vball: .
: I don't think those guys look so bad!
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. Portrait of Kalimeris: . Portrait of LaZorra: . Portrait of LuckyWizard: . Portrait of Lynette: . Portrait of Maryam: . Portrait of niekie: . Portrait of Sam: . Portrait of TalkingDog: . Portrait of ThePhan: . Portrait of vball: . Least Cute:  | Camou-Fairy Presents... Camou-Fairy Tales Episode 5: House Call |
: *knock*knock*knock*
: Who are you?: I'm fine, thanks, who are you?: I'm fine, too, but you can't come in unless-a you give the password.: Password?? I'm the doctor you sent for!: Atsa no matter. You gotta give me the password.: Fairy, don't you know who I am? I danced before Napoleon! No, Napoleon danced before me. As a matter of fact, he danced 200 years before me.: Open up at once, or I'll call headquarters! I'll call hindquarters! Loan me a quarter, huh?: Aw, no. You gotta tell me. Otherwise, I can no let-a you in.: Say, when did you become Italian? Weren't you Southern last week?: Atsa no matter. I talk like-a Florence Fairy, but I'm a Dixie Pixie.: Fine. Now, about this password--: Hey, tell you what I do. I give you three guesses. It's the name of a fish.: Is it Sandra?: Ha-ha. Atsa no fish.: She isn't? Well, she drinks like one. Let me see. Is it sturgeon?: Hey, you crazy. Sturgeon, that's you -- doctor, cuts you open when-a you sick. Now I give you one more chance.: I got it. Haddock.: Atsa funny. I gotta haddock, too.: What do you take for a haddock?: Sometimes I take-a aspirin, sometimes I take-a Calamel.: Say, I'd walk a mile for a Calamel.: You mean chocolate calamel. I like that too, but you no guess it. You can't come in here unless you say 'swordfish.' Now I'll give you one more guess.: Swordfish?: Hah! That's it. You guess it.: Pretty good, eh? Now I've got one for you. What is it that has four pairs of pants, lives in Philadelphia, and it never rains but it pours?: Atsa good one. I give you three guesses.: Now let me see. Has four pair of pants, lives in Philadelphia.... Is it male or female?: No, I no think so.: Is he dead?: Who?: I don't know. I give up.: I give up, too.: Too bad, then. I can't let you outside.: Ok, you better come in, then.: Thanks. Say, I used to know a fairy who looked exactly like you. Are you her sister?: No, I'm the fairy you used to know.: You're the fairy I used to know?: I'm the fairy you used to know.: Well, no wonder you look like her. But I still insist there is a resemblance.: Oh yeah? You think I look alike?: Sure. Tough break for both of you. Say, can you lend me twelve dollars?: Twelve dollars?: Don't be scared. You'll get it back. I'll give you my personal note for ninety days. If it isn't paid by then, you can keep the note.: Sorry, I no gotta money. We gotta high taxes here.: Hey, I got an uncle that lives in Taxes.: No, I'm talking about taxes -- money, dollars!: Yeah, that's where he lives. Dollars, Taxes! Now where's this patient of mine?: Atsa Mrs. Prom, right over here.
: Good evening, doctor.: Say, she looks bad. *examines her with an auriscope*: The last time I saw a head like that was in a bottle of formaldehyde.: Told you she was sick.: That's all pure desecration along there. She's got about a 15% metabolism, with an overactive thyroid and a glandular affectation of about 3%. And a 1% mentality.: That's bad.: She's what we designate as the crummy moronic type. All in all, this is the most gruesome looking piece of blubber I've ever peered at.: Hey, doc. Hey, doc!: Huh?: You gotta the looking glass turned around. You're looking at yourself.: *clears throat* Well, Mrs. Prom, you must take one of these.: Just a minute, doctor. That looks like a horse pill to me.: Oh, you've taken them before?: Are you sure, doctor, that you haven't made a mistake?: You have nothing to worry about. The last patient I gave one of those to won the Kentucky Derby.: Isn't it awfully large for a pill?: Well, it was too small for a basketball, and I didn't know what to do with it. Say, you're awfully large for a pill yourself. By the way, where is your husband?: Why, he's dead.: I bet he's just using that as an excuse.: I was with him to the very end.: No wonder he passed away.: I held him in my arms and kissed him.: Ah-ha! So it was murder!
