[Dr. Lynn Denlon is wheeled into a room and meets a cancer-ridden Jigsaw]
Lynn Denlon: Who are you? Who are you?!
John: Hello, Dr. Denlon. You may not remember me, but I most certainly remember you. I was a guest... at your hospital once.
Lynn Denlon: Where am I?
John: Do you remember me?
[Amanda tosses some files on Lynn, with notable names John Kramer and Lawrence Gordon]
Lynn Denlon: I've seen you on television. Lawrence Gordon was your doctor.
John: I was his patient and he was mine. As you can see from that report, my prognosis isn't good. Would you agree?
[Several words appear on the file, notably Frontal lobe tumor and INOPERABLE]
Lynn Denlon: There's no preventative treatment for what you have.
John: I remember you saying that to me once before in almost the exact same tone. Leave it to a doctor to find such a cold, clinical way of saying I'm dead man walking. Looking at me, how long would you say I have left?
Lynn Denlon: I'd have to examine you. Even then, a frontal lobe tumor is unpredictable. The growth depends on the rate of mytosis versus apostitis.
John: I'm sorry, but is all this crude medical equipment around me causing you to believe that you're still inside a hospital?
Lynn Denlon: No...
John: Then why are you speaking to me in that graduate-school medical jargon? [Lynn doesn't answer, not even looking at him] LOOK AT ME!!!! [Sits up; Lynn is paying attention] Now you look at me. I asked you a simple question: how long do you think I have left?
Lynn Denlon: It's not a simple answer. Based on your file, I'd say... not long.
[John lays down in his bed]
John: Death is a surprise party. Unless, of course, you're already dead on the inside. [Referring to Lynn] Unless you're the type of person who swallows antidepressants to hide the pain? Turns their backs on their husband, neglects their child, who has every possible advantage in life but chooses not to advance.
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