. Just a mo'', says Doctor Bob, 'There's someone I've forgotten. A manager to cook the books And rob the patients rotten.' The doctor hits on just the man. His name is, 'Honest John'. He finds him at the prison gates, Looking woebegone. 'Come with me,' the doctor says, 'I need a sly ex-con.' 'You're just the man I want,' he winks, 'To handle my accounts, To make my little clinic pay By charging large amounts.' 'You're in luck,' says Honest John, 'I happen to be free. And I can fleece dumb animals. Just you wait and see. First, bring me pens, an AppleMac, A desk and bags of tea.' So, John, the con-man, keeps his word - He rakes the money in. For, doctoring the doc's accounts Is John's declared doctrine. Each loophole in a patient's bill, He swoops on in a flash, E.g., a slow-worm, cut in two, In a head-on auto crash - Each half is charged a joining fee, So, doubling Bob's cash	. Cows must pay for extra food, Because they have four stomachs. A dromedary's bill includes A charge for double hummocks. He tops and tails blind moles in beds. Their plight is quite unsightly. To save more space, he packs sardines In with pilchards tightly, But sheep and goats, they both refuse The same commode - quite rightly! He waters down the medicine, His pills are made of chalk. And major operations Are done with knife and fork. He tampers with the petty cash, He fiddles income taxes, He Tip-Exes the payment books And sends out phoney Faxes. He juggles with the balance sheets Which cleverly prevents His work from being audited Thus, hiding his offences. (He also steals from Doctor Bob By faking his expenses.)