[Intro: Bright banjo rolls w/ mariachi trumpet swells] (Yeehaw! ¡Olé!) [Verse 1: Gambler (quick banjo rhythm, setting the scene)] [Gambler:] Lost it all in Vegas, tried to double down Now I’m broke and crawling back to my hometown Met a guy who said, "Some you win, but when you lose, Try Dr. Hatchett’s clinic—he buys parts you don’t use!" [Doctor (cutting in smoothly):] [Doctor:] Well, hello there, friend, don’t be shy! You seem in good shape, what can I buy? [Gambler (nervously):] [Gambler:] Uh, Doc, I dunno, but I’m feeling a bit faint— Is that blood on the wall, or is it just paint? [Chorus: Doctor (confident and pushy)] [Doctor:] Body parts for sale—what can you spare? I’ll take a lung, a leg, or a full scalp of hair! I’ll buy a liver, a kidney, or maybe your balls? Don’t waste my time—I’m sure you don’t need ‘em all! [Verse 2: Doctor (smooth, persuasive, banjo & fiddle bounce playfully)] [Doctor:] You got two brain halves, one for logic, one for art— You can think fine, just using one part! The left side is used to count cards and toothpicks, The right side is for making art with ice lolly sticks [Gambler (snarky but nervous):] [Gambler:] Survive on half a brain are you serious, oh dear. I'm already in trouble, and that's with two hemispheres! [Chorus] [Bridge: Back-and-forth dialogue, playful banter over trumpet and upright bass] [Doctor:] How ‘bout a hand? You’ve got two that match! [Gambler:] But how would I deal in a poker match? [Doctor:] You’ve got a liver! That’ll fetch a nice price. [Gambler:] But I do like a drink before bedtime each night. [Instrumental Break: Banjo and trumpet trade fast-paced solos, energetic and playful] [Verse 3: Gambler (reluctantly, over bright banjo rolls)] [Gambler:] I've got nostril hair, hardly used at all, And one wisdom tooth extracted last fall. Two baby factories—maybe one I could spare, Oh wait! child support? I wont risk that, I don't dare. [Doctor (laughing, pressing harder):] [Doctor:] Those jewels fetch a fortune—I can do you a deal! [Gambler:] Fortune or not Doc— you can’t have a feel! [Chorus] [Verse 4: Doctor (fiddle and stomping percussion lead)] [Doctor:] How about a fecal transplant? Simple and clean! I’ll throw in a tetanus to avoid gangrene. [Gambler (uncertain):] [Gambler:] A fecal transplant? That don’t sound so bad— If it gets me some cash, which way to the lab? [Outro: Gambler (sung in realization, over triumphant mariachi outro)] [Gambler:] Woke up in an alley, stitches down one side— No fecal transplant, that bastard, he lied! But wait, there’s good news—50 bucks he did pay, Back to Vegas I go—today’s my lucky day! [**Trumpets blare a triumphant mariachi outro, fade on stomping rhythm**]