NEW YORK — A new independent report revealed that the average veterinarian has an eight-hour wait list due to the sheer volume of hunky outlaws needing off-grid medical care after hours, sources confirmed.
“Most veterinarians just want to help animals, but somehow word got around to every vigilante, mobster, and anti-hero in town that they can also stitch them up in the middle of the night while these guys lay low from the law. Vet offices usually have a waiting room full of stoic badasses,” said researcher Melanie Garcia. “You can’t go into a hospital with a gunshot wound or they’ll call the cops, but these guys need to wait until vets tend to the cats with diarrhea, pitbulls that swallowed a Costco-sized pack of tube socks, and hamsters with gout. In the meantime, all they can do is sit down next to the rest of the outlaws and bleed all over the Cat Fancy magazines.”
Local vigilante Frank “The Compensator” Vercetti had been receiving off-grid medical care at Healing Paws Animal Clinic for years, but revealed that things have changed over the last few years.
“In the old days you could stumble into a vet clinic at 2 a.m., get a bullet taken out of your shoulder and still have time to flirt with the tough yet beautiful veterinarian all while a sensual saxophone soundtrack plays against the pale moonlight shining through the window,” said Vercetti, pouting while a receptionist handed him paperwork. “But nowadays there’s so many other outlaws in here it totally kills the vibe. Doc is so busy she doesn’t even have time to longingly watch me through the window as I slip off into the night for the final showdown with the bad guys.”
Healing Paws’ regular customers were starting to notice the change in clientele.
“I don’t think I’m gonna come back to this vet clinic, the waiting room is always full of masculine dudes with black eyes and gunshot wounds—and the weirdest part is none of them have pets with them,” said Howard Barlow, comforting his goldendoodle, Francisco. “Well they better quit their bellyaching and get in line because my Francisco has a doozy of a tummy ache. Also I’m pretty sure that guy over there pretended to be a cop and commandeered my vehicle last week before crashing it into the old steel mill in a hail of gunfire.”
At press time, a nearby gas station stopped letting customers use the bathroom after the owner was tired of cleaning up bullets and vodka bottles from hunky off-grid outlaws performing field surgery on themselves.