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Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!
Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Cut! Cut!
Cut him!

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

Sign here.

Do you even earn that in a year?

No, you cheated!

He's a miserable shitting cheat.

Wait, wait!

I'm good for it.
I can get you the money.

Show-off.

Jealous?

Gentlemen.

The Royal Hospital somewhat
proudly presents Dr. Rainsford Sneed.

And the much celebrated
Dr. Jack Dawkins.

Now, we have a fine one
for you today, gents.

A leg, shattered.
Falling down a mine shaft, was it?

The question, though, is who cuts?

Heads.

Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!

-Me.

-I bet you can't do it under 43.
-A pound says 29.

When have you ever had a pound?

As soon as you lose.

Gentlemen!

Dr. Sneed here seems to think

that I can't amputate this leg
in less than his record of 43 seconds.

Well, I beg to differ!

Mr. Champflower, this will be
the worst 30 seconds of your life,

but I promise,
I will make it as quick as I can.

Your favourite memory.

Take your mind there now.

Here we go.

Get in there!

Hack him.
-Time me.

Time?

-Twenty-eight seconds, gentlemen.

Twenty-eight seconds!

A lucky cut.

Come on, gents, let's go.

Into the hat, come on.
It'll all go to Dr. Dawkins, let's go.

-Come on!
-Good man.

She's so stubborn!

Never considers all the work I've done
to find her a good match.

Just completely focused
on whatever harebrained...

Don't do that!

-What?
-Whatever that is.

You stormed in on me.

What's that ungovernable stench?

Your perfume?

No, it's ether.

The new Lancet reports
the most extraordinary thing.

You can give the patient ether,
and they don't feel a thing.

I mean,
you can perform surgery without pain.

Can't you understand?
This changes everything.

Oh, my God. That's so interesting.

Come. The Honourable Mortimer Smales
is soon to arrive,

and there is so much to do.

Remind me.

The Honourable Mortimer Smales.
He just sailed four months from England.

Do you know how much effort it takes
to get potential suitors out to Australia?

Oh.

No, I'm, I'm far too busy
to meet anybody called Mortimer.

Can you please hurry up
and marry someone, so then I can...

Engage in what the wedding service
so delicately calls "sexual union"?

Oh, God, you're so vulgar.

This is the sixth suitor you've sent away.

What was wrong with the last one?
Sir Jeremy Glasscock?

His teeth.

You know perfectly well
I can't marry 'til you do.

See, that just makes no sense.

You should marry whoever you like,
whenever you like.

Go and marry the Honourable Snail.

-Society doesn't work that way.
-Fine.

All right, tell Mildred,
or whatever his name is

that I will marry him, all right?

I just can't meet him for a little while.

-Really?
-No.

Get out.

-How's that squawker, Mrs. Wellings?
-Still noisy.

Good, good. Healthy lungs.
You're doing well.

Dr. Jack.

Leg good, Mr. Hootens?

Actually, it's been sore again.

Been up all night.

When I try and bend it,
it's agony.

You see, I think...

Why don't you come see me
at the hospital?

Yeah...

Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.

-Charlie.
-Jack.

-Here you go.
-Thank you.

What'd he do?

Escaped convict.

Get out! Get out of the way. Jack!

Get out of here!

I really don't feel comfortable
doing this, Dr. Jack,

but I've got responsibilities.

This isn't London, Jack.
There's nowhere to hide.

I know where you work.

-Twenty-six pounds by next Monday.
-Friday.

Tuesday.

And I'll be merciful.
I'll let you choose which hand.

Was it really necessary
to come outside so early, Fanny?

He's had ever so long a journey,
we must be here to greet him.

-What do you think he'll be wearing?
-Clothes, one hopes.

Could you at least try and be excited?

Better.

I'm so thrilled I might pop.

Lovely.

Shush, shush, boy.

Mr. Smales. It is my pleasure
to introduce you to Lady...

Lady Belle.

"Sweet lady with eyes so bright,

"that fill my heart with such delight."

No, thank you.

Say something to him.

Did you know, Mr. Smales,
the human bowel is 15 feet long?

If you stretch it out, it would be you,
plus me, plus a bit of Fanny.

New convicts, over here.

Barely any labour left in them
after these seas voyages.

Just sea sores and scurvy.

Chain gang.

Also, chain gang.

Chain gang for this one, too.

Enough.

Cheer up, Dawkins.
You look like you swallowed a lemon.

-Name?
-Milly Wince.

And your crime?

I stole clothes for me baby,

but he died on the way over.

What was his name?

Benjy.

She can help the schoolma'am.

But I can't read.

It's all right, they'll teach you.

All right, next.

Chain gang!

Hello, Dodge.

Been a time?

Dog got your tongue?

You're dead.

They hanged you 15 years ago in Newgate.

Surprise, surprise.

What are you?

Why are they all salutin' you
like you're royalty?

I was a navy surgeon, an officer.

Oh.

You've done well for yourself, boy.
I'm proud of you.

What are you doing here, Fagin?

Well, Her Majesty and I thought

that I could benefit
from a bit of quiet time in the colony.

Now, listen to me.

I can decide your fate
with a stroke of my pen,

so if one word gets out about our past...

No, I would never do that. Never. Never.

To even think it hurts.

No. I'm here for you,
just as I hope you're here for me.

Because sometimes, a covey
gets pushed into a corner like a rat,

and the only way out is to bite.

So, don't make me bite you, Dodge.

What do you want?

Well, a little bird flapped in
and whispered to me

that you'd escaped from prison in London.

Do they hang escaped convicts here?

I'll take that as a yes.

Don't fret, I'd never give you up,
just keep me off that chain gang.

Dawkins.

Everything all right?

Yes. I thought he might have
something contagious,

but it's just his stench.

Where's he going?

I need another on the chain gang.

Doesn't matter
if he doesn't last that long.

No, I was thinking of making him
my convict servant.

Really? That's unconventional.

-I see untapped potential.
Very untapped, I'd say.

Yes, I have a nose for this kind of thing.

Yes, well, you'll want to plug it.

The man smells like a Yorkshire pig house.

-I like him.
-Come on.

What is this?

It's hurting me lungs.
I can't put me finger on it.

It's fresh air. Pick up my bag.

What?

Pick up my bag.

Why?

Because you are my servant now.

If you do not do what I say,
I will have you flogged.

Dodge.

Dodge, has it come to this?

You'll need to look less
syphilitic scarecrow

if you wanna be my servant.

Very nice. Why are you so scratchy?

Why am I so scratchy?

Because you left me in a cell,
as a boy, alone in the cold.

You abandoned me.

The minute Oliver got me pinched,
you walked away, and never came back.

I did try to help you
as soon as the coast was clear.

They said you'd escaped in a snowstorm,
no shoes, middle of winter.

No one survives that.
I thought you was dead.

And you went on your merry way.

Look. Don't you think I grieved?

Don't you think I suffered?

I fell apart when you left.

It was agony, Dodge.
I couldn't sleep, I cried every night,

I woke up with me mouth all dry
because there was no more tears.

I wanted them to hang me
just to get it over.

Because the worst I done,

worse than all me bad deeds,
is I left me beautiful boy.

And I could never forgive meself.

I prayed. I did.
I asked God to snap me neck.

And I did not protest
on the way to the gallows,

I yearned for them
because I deserved the rope.

And then that shitting do-gooder
Oliver Twist saved me

at the last second with a reprieve.

Well, all is forgiven then.

Look, look, I know you don't believe me,

but ever since I rescued you
from outside that pub as a baby...

You told me you rescued me from inside.

Inside, outside, it's all one.

But ever since then,
I have loved you in me own odd way.

With me own odd heart.

Awful lot of wealthy people in this town,
isn't there?

I will give you a roof and a job.

Only because I am a doctor,

and you look like
you've been spat out a bilge hole.

Well, in a manner of speaking, I have.

Once you're healthy, you're out.

Jiminy, look at this!

Do not touch anything.

You shall sleep here, understood?

That's the floor.

Yes. Well done.

You can wear these.
I'm sure Mr. Grundy won't mind.

Why not?

'Cause he is dead.

Gangrene last Thursday.

Bit whiffy.

But, yeah, nice, nice.

How did you get here?

A good man gave me a future.

Well, yes, I always tried for you.

Not you. Captain Grimm.

The man I pinched the watch from.

He was a Navy officer,
and he liked my quick fingers.

He saw the mess you'd left me in
and decided to help me escape.

There you go. There you go.

Your good fortune's all down to me.

And how'd you work that out?

Pickpocketing.

How'd' you think you got those
quick fingers, Doctor?

And if I hadn't have let you get nicked,
you'd never be a surgeon, would ya?

Well, thank you very much, Fagin.

There's no need.
It's what a father does.

Look at these.

Ah!

Now, I can see you clearly.

Let's have a little look.

Oh, dear.

Oh, no.

What's up your cranny?

You're not the happy Dodge I knew.

I have a 26 pound debt on my head.

And if I don't pay it,
I get my hand chopped off.

Which one?

My choice.

Well, that's something.

Then I come at a fortuitous time. There.

If by that, you mean pilfering,

I'm afraid those days are long gone.
I am an officer.

-Former.
-A gentleman.

-Sort of.
-And a surgeon.

Not without both your hands.

Doctor,
we need you in the surgery now.

The professor's drunk
and he wants to operate on Mr. Hootens.

You do not leave this room.

He's been at the gin
since morning.

I told you it was sore, doc.

Don't worry,
I'm gonna save you, all right?

Gentlemen, today, we perform Hunter's
procedure for a popliteal aneurysm.

We open up the thigh, ligate the artery,
and if it bursts, he dies.

But he's not going to die today.

Scalpel. Thank you.

Hold still.

What? No, I'm taking over.

-This needs a steady hand.
-We have it, Professor.

I very much doubt that.

Scalpel.

Not that one, sir.

-Higher, sir!

You distracted me
during a vital procedure!

You had the wrong artery!

Sneed, give me a hand.

Tourniquet! Tourniquet, now!

Sneed, quickly!

Quickly!

-Three, two, one, exsanguinate.
-Come on. Come on. Wake up.

-No!

You shouldn't have interfered, Dawkins.

That'll go on your loss tally now.

He's just not up to the task.

Sad, but true.

The idea of having
a man of his low standing,

-was always gonna be fraught.
-Well, worth a go.

Surely, there must be somebody
more competent.

Not in Port Victory.

Next option's four months off in London.

What happened to the last fellow
you recommended, Prof?

Dr. Hopmoor.

Killed the patient, an observer,
and himself in one surgery.

And from memory, he's the only surgeon
in history with a 300% mortality rate.

Hmm.

So, he's not an option, then. Pity.

We'll find someone.

But Dawkins just isn't up to scratch.

That's a shame and surprising.

He had the most
extraordinary recommendation

from the First Lord of the Admiralty...

Yes, wartime's different. It's...

What was it he said?

"The most brilliant young surgeon
in the Royal Navy."

Yes. Yes, something along those lines.

Hmm.

You doubt his surgical skill, Rainsford?

Well... Not that.

-He's insolent.
-Yes.

He's a liberal and a radical.

He takes too many risks,
and he doesn't follow the rules.

Well, if you think so, Prof.

You'll have to write to the
First Lord of the Admiralty, darling,

and explain how terribly wrong he was.

Hmm.

Well, I think we might continue
this little experiment for a while longer.

But if he puts another foot wrong,
out on his ear.

Worth a read.

Nicely played.

I rather thought so.

Now, I want you to spend some time
with Mr. Smales, darling.

Don't just dismiss him out of hand
like all the others.

-Captain Gaines.
-I need the Governor to sign these.

-And what are they?
-Government business.

What kind?

Well...

death warrants.

Ridding the colony of some of its more
noxious elements.

Yes, this one stole a chicken.

I can see why she poses
such a threat to good order.

I'll see my husband gets them.

You bastard.

Where's my...

How did you?

You cocky little shit.

You think your mate
Fagin's gonna get you out?

You're here for 15 years.

Is he? Shift over, shift over.

Fagin. I knew you wouldn't leave me.

I'd never do that, Dodge.

Now, the thing is, my dear, right now,

I'm being blamed for a murder
that I definitely didn't do.

We're gonna keep our heads down
for the moment.

I can't get you out immediately.
I've gotta look after number one.

No.

Fagin, you can't leave me here.

Please. Please don't leave me here.

Who's really in prison, eh?

I mean, you've got a roof over your head.

You have a meal once in a while.

Whereas me and the boys
are still chained to the vicissitudes

of having to make a living.

And you'll be a king
when you get out of here.

Lagged for 15 years at 13.
I'm proud of you, boy.

You've established a glorious reputation.

The gang won't be the same without ya.

See you, Dodge.

Bye, Dodger.

No. Fagin, please don't leave me in here.

Dodge,

if it helps, I do feel bad about this.

Would you like
to play the harp for me?

-No.
-Oh.

I was rather hoping you'd say, "Yes."

Uh, did I tell you I had a book
of poetry published?

Several times.

Well, self-published.

That's how Wordsworth started out.

No, it's not.

Shall I read you some?

It's called, Upon The Dew-Lit Morn,
My Soul Took Flight, and Flew

"Upon the dew-lit morn..."

-Where are you going?
-He's an insufferable bore.

Yes, but a rich one and from good stock.

Turn around.

At least show him the town
before you refuse him.

Marriage, Bonny.

Something you dogs
don't have to be tormented by.

And more's the pity for them.

We have nothing in common.

-Talk to him about hospitals.
-Why?

Because his family founded one.

Didn't they, Mr. Smales?

Well, uh, hospitals.

Other side of the family, of course.

Birmingham, Manchester, somewhere north.

India, one of them.

Fanny, why didn't you say something?

Come, we're going to see the hospital.

I've never been,
and I've always wanted to.

A hospital? No. What about miasma?
She'll catch some dreadful...

-I would hate to disappoint Mr. Smales.
-I'm not really...

Have you ever heard of ether?

Ether?
No, was he a friend of Bunty's?

How are you feeling, Mr. Champflower?

Me foot itches like one
of Rotty's dollymops, but it isn't there.

The phantom limb will soon fade.

I need a phantom hand
to bloody scratch it with.

Made this from a nice little bit of damun.

You mob call it "fig wood," eh?

Put a soft cushion in there
for your stump, too.

Thanks, Tim.
No worries!

You'll be walking in no time.

-Are you breaking out?
Yep.

Gotta sniff the place out,
get a feel for it.

-You know we're on the second floor?
-Yes, I realise that now.

That's why I'm tryna get back in.

Well, go on, then.

I think me back's seized up.

And me hip. Maybe me knee.

Yes, all right.

You try bein' in irons for four months,
and let's see how limber you are.

All right, come on.

-Two. Come here.

Jehovah!

Who do I say I am?

Nobody.

You don't say anything.

Pretend you're mute,
and then stay like that.

You can be my mute servant.

-Put that back.
-Why? I like it.

Because this is not
the East End of London.

Mrs. Gaines, Dr. Dawkins.

Und Herr Dr. Guntstaffer
from Prussia brings you greetings, yes.

Two doctors?

The Lord provides.

Ah! What a lovely house you have.

So full of the precious objects, yes.

My only precious things here
are the words of Jesus.

Don't you agree, Doctor?

Yeah, Dr. Guntstaffer here,

was the greatest physician
of his generation

until he was tragically kicked repeatedly
in the head by an angry mule

and subsequently had half his brain
surgically removed.

Thus, I take great pity on him
as my former teacher.

Have you tried beating him?

Because I hear a beating can be
quite nourishing for the imbecile.

That is a very good thought, Mrs. Gaines.

-Now, tell me, how can I help?
-Well...

It's my thigh.

Again?

Yes, the pain seems to be
creeping upwards.

Right.

Yes, I thought it might.

This is perfect.

You distract the women,
I'll flog their jewels.

Fagin, can we just not talk for a bit?

Lotta scratch in there, Dodge.

That woman in there
is Captain Gaines' wife.

What, the cold fish from the hospital?

Yes, that's the one.
His hobby is hanging people.

Twice. Just to make sure.

Well, at least he's got interests.

No more voices, all right?

This isn't London,
there's nowhere to hide here.

How long do you reckon it'd take
before we got rumbled?

-Not long, I should think.
-Then why're you doin' it?

Because who's going to have to explain
their way out of it?

The convict servant
or the escaped convict master?

No more voices.

Bonjour, madame.
I am Docteur Le Goff from Paris.

Doctor.

It's been happening since Monday,
this constant tickle in my throat.

-We could own this town.
-Shut up.

And then I coughed up
the most disgusting sputum.

I can't go to the ball tonight like this.
What would the Governor think?

-Not much of anything, I suppose.

Tell me, Docteur.
What do you think of this?

You see, when it comes to sputum,

the French medics,
they like to smell, and then taste it.

He doesn't speak much English, I'm afraid.

Forgive me, Doctor. So rude.

He's from Provence.

Ah.

Madam, you are as they say,
very healthy for the ball.

The sputum, c'est magnifique.

Lovely rubies, very shiny.

Stop it, Fagin.

What? Just an observation.

-Do you like dancing?
-No.

-Croquet?
-Snore.

-Fox hunting?
-Very much, no.

Oh. Why?

It's mindless, barbaric, and cruel.

What about you? Chemistry?

Geology?

-Oh, yes. With the maps.
-No, the rocks, but close.

Anatomy?

-Poetry?
-Yes! Yes!

Anyone other than yourself and Wordsworth?

-Such as?
Move aside!

So, really,
just Wordsworth and fox hunting?

That's about the size of it.

Oh, my God.

Here, Dodger.
Are you going to this Governor's ball?

Oh, yes, I've got my invitation on me.
In fact, it's for both of us.

-Really?
-No.

I'm not gonna get invited
to the Governor's ball,

let alone someone who looks like
they walked out of a nightmare.

Doc, lad's gone under a carriage.

Help! We need a doctor!

Okay. Um, you're okay.

You'll be all right. You're doing great.

-Help!
-Coming through, coming through! Here.

Thank God.

-I've put a tourniquet on.
-It's not tight enough.

I need something to tighten it with.

-Um...

It's all right.
I'm gonna sort you right out.

Can you fix it?

I'll need to amputate. Excuse me, sir,
can I borrow that? Thank you.

What about Bircher's procedure to save it?

Miss, please.
-M'lady.

To do that,
I would need to drill into his leg bones,

and insert pegs to knit them
back together again.

He would die of shock and pain.

-Not if you take the pain with ether.
-The Yankee Dodge?

-Yes.
-That is unproven.

Except for Morton in Boston
and Liston in London.

-Do you even read The Lancet?
-Not while I have strength, no.

Anyway, that chump of a Governor
has banned ether,

so Prof wouldn't let it near the hospital.

-That's just idiotic. Look, I've got...
-Look, m'lady,

one of us is a qualified surgeon

and the other one
is carrying a bloody parasol.

So, thank you, but would you mind
awfully sodding off.

Fagin, need a carriage.

What, like this one?

Would you like a lift?

Uh, excuse me?

Hey, it's not too bad, Charlie boy.

I've seen much worse at sea.
Plus, you're gonna have a terrific scar.

-A stump.
What?

Instead of using ether,
you're going to butcher the boy

-and condemn him to beggary?
-No!

Thank you.
Wonderful bedside manner you've got.

-You've got a knack for it.
-Someone's got to stick up for him.

-If only you'd listen.
-You're not gonna take it?

I promise, I am going to save your life.

You listen to me, you upstart.

I'd give anything to trial that surgery.

Anything. Surgery without pain
would revolutionise medicine.

-But I won't.
-Please, I need me leg.

Because the biggest risk to any surgeon
is the addiction to feeling like God.

You are gambling against death
with only your wit for ante,

and that is bloody exhilarating.
But the risk is not yours.

There is a person beneath your hands.

And the moment the cutter forgets that,
and gives into his ego,

then the patient is lost.

A surgeon is lost.

Might I suggest you find your spine?

It's usually around the back.

The hospital is that way.

-We're not going to the hospital.
-What?

Why? He doesn't have much time.

What are we doing here,
you ridiculous woman?

This is the Governor's residence.

Oh, God. You're the Governor's daughter.

Yes. I am the "chump" Governor's daughter.

I'm Lady "Chump" Belle.

And you must be the Dr. Jack Dawkins
everyone speaks so fondly of.

Oh, fantastic.
This is workin' out superbly.

I can't perform an operation here.
I need surgical equipment.

-Yeah, I've got it.
-Why?

Just wait. I'll get supplies.

Have we just been kidnapped by a lady?

I could get used to this.

We'll be starting the tour soon.

Starting the tour soon, do gather up...

Ladies and gentlemen,
if you'd like to join us, please.

In just a few minutes,
we'll start our tour of the paintings.

Oh, sherbet. Spilt my fizz.

Do join us.

It's not long now, Charlie.

It's good, this.

Good? What part of this is good?

I got a dying child in there,

and I've got no surgical equipment
to save him.

Yesterday, I was in chains,
and today, I'm at the Governor's ball.

There's a lot more to come,
now that we're back together.

We are not back together.

Come on, it's perfect.
Cucumber sandwich or ten, bit of surgery?

Snatch the rubies, happy days.

You remember how they glistened, Dodge?

Like sun through summer wine.
Makes you almost wanna taste 'em.

I'm not a crook anymore.

Do you know the last time
I stole something was 15 years ago?

The same day you left me in prison.

Well, what a horrifying
waste of potential.

You were the best I ever trained.

-I'm so sorry to disappoint you.
-Well, you do!

You do. You're not being true to yourself.

This is who I am!

Look.

What do you plan to do for work
without your hand?

You've gotta think bold and big.
It's the only way out.

One last time.

Just to pay off this debt,
and then I'm clean for good.

Of course, you are, my dear.

Come on.
Take him down to the basement.

All right.

Come on, Charlie boy. Time to go.

Fagin, come on. Grab his leg. Carefully.

Careful, Fagin.

There's no time. We're gonna
have to do it here. Set him down.

-What?
-It's not ideal...

Fagin, clear that table.

It's all right, Charlie.

Okay, all right.

It's all right.

Moving to the ballroom,
up on the left,

the double tapestry by the Dutch artist...

You can save the leg with ether.
You know you can.

...titled Across the Pond.
It's quite an extraordinary piece...

Ladies and gentlemen!

The entertainment.

For our main event,
I have a very special treat for you.

Dr. Dawkins will perform an operation,
never been done before.

Where an inferior cowardly surgeon
might just simply remove the leg,

Dr. Dawkins will make
a thousand years of history

by trialling surgery with no pain.

The Yankee Dodge!

Dodge.

I might just go
and watch you from up there.

Yeah, go, Fagin. Do it. Get them.

Uh, Belle, something for the bone peg?

You're okay.

Good.

Now, if I get hanged for this,
I'll haunt your every waking moment.

I'll be that face you see
in your nightmares and trust me,

you will only have nightmares.

Do shut up and ether the patient.

You're all right.
Watch closely, everyone.

As Dr. Dawkins anaesthetises the boy,

-takes his pain...
-You're fine.

...and then operates with no sensation.

Now, just breathe.

There, we go. That's it. Good lad.

Right.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

can we rouse him from living death?

Charlie?

Come on, Charlie.

Charlie.

Come on, Charlie.

Come on.

Charlie.

Charlie.

Come on, Charlie boy.

-Don't cut me, Doc! I need me leg!

-Wonderful!
-Marvelous.

-Thank God.
-The Yankee Dodge!

Well done!

Have you enjoyed the show?
No, I was very into it.

That was... It was wonderful, Dodge.

Thank you.

Yes. I rather thought
he was more competent

than you were suggesting, darling.

Oh, gosh.

My rubies. I've been robbed.

They've been stolen.
My rubies have been stolen.

-I've been robbed!
-Search everyone! No one leaves.

Hands.

-You all right?
-Yeah.

Yes, it's just the ether fumes.

Take me upstairs?

I've got you. All right.

I'm sure you won't mind if I search you?

Captain Gaines, move aside.

I'm not well. Move aside.

Are you well?

Who's your doctor?

Prof.

-Has he ever examined you?
-He's too scared to get it wrong.

Take off your dress.

I need to listen to your back.
Take off your dress.

Here.

There.

Now, just breathe steady.
Just breathe with me.

In.

-And out. Good.

Again. In. Out.

Okay. Gonna come around the front.

Once again. In.

Good, and out.

In.

Out.

You're a common thief.

Shall I call Captain Gaines now or later?

No. No, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Darius cheated me at cards.

He's gonna take my hand
if I don't pay him a ludicrous debt.

Then pay him with your own money!

With what money?
I get paid in pennies and thimbles.

You've got two options.

I yell "guards" and you get hanged.

Not ideal.

Or you make me the first female surgeon
and I keep your secret.

That or the noose.

Well?

I'm thinking.

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