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"
Well
,
"
he
said
,
and
clicked
his
teeth
together
like
they
'd
just
been
sharpened
,
"
if
we
cut
it
a
leetle
bit
with
the
vodka
,
I
think
it
'll
be
all
right
.
How
are
we
fixed
for
ice
cubes
,
Turkey
,
old
buddy
?
"
Mixed
in
paper
medicine
cups
with
the
liquor
and
the
port
wine
,
the
sirup
had
a
taste
like
a
kid
's
drink
but
a
punch
like
the
cactus
apple
wine
we
used
to
get
in
The
Dalles
,
cold
and
soothing
on
the
throat
and
hot
and
furious
once
it
got
down
.
We
turned
out
the
lights
in
the
day
room
and
sat
around
drinking
it
.
We
threw
the
first
couple
of
cups
down
like
we
were
taking
our
medication
,
drinking
it
in
serious
and
silent
doses
and
looking
one
another
over
to
see
if
it
was
going
to
kill
anybody
.
McMurphy
and
Turkle
switched
back
and
forth
from
the
drink
to
Turkle
's
cigarettes
and
got
to
giggling
again
as
they
discussed
how
it
would
be
to
lay
that
little
nurse
with
the
birthmark
who
went
off
,
at
midnight
.
"
I
'd
be
scared
,
"
Turkle
said
,
"
that
she
might
go
to
whuppin
'
me
with
that
big
of
cross
on
that
chain
.
Wu
n't
that
be
a
fix
to
be
in
,
now
?
"
"
I
'd
be
scared
,
"
McMurphy
said
,
"
that
just
about
the
time
I
was
getting
my
jellies
she
'd
reach
around
behind
me
with
a
thermometer
and
take
my
temperature
!
"
That
busted
everybody
up
.
Harding
stopped
laughing
long
enough
to
join
the
joking
.
"
Or
worse
yet
,
"
he
said
.
"
Just
lie
there
under
you
with
a
dreadful
concentration
on
her
face
,
and
tell
you
--
oh
Jesus
,
listen
--
tell
you
what
your
pulse
was
!
"
"
Oh
do
n't
...
oh
my
Gawd
...
"
"
Or
even
worse
,
just
lie
there
,
and
be
able
to
calculate
your
pulse
and
temperature
both
--
sans
instruments
!
"
"
Oh
Gawd
,
oh
please
do
n't
...
"
