It was only a tiny bump on the bridge of her nose; so small as to be barely noticed. But she noticed it, and it caused her unimaginable grief when she looked in the mirror—which she did often—and beheld her

otherwise classic profile marred by its deformity. It ruined her happiness.

She had heard of a plastic surgeon, a veritable wizard, who made beautiful movie stars more beautiful, ordinary ones lovely and ugly ones not bad, not bad at all. He was expensive, however, and it would cost her all her vacation money. But it was worth it for beauty’s sake.

She rang him up. “Dr. Deville,” she said, “I have a terrible problem. Can you help me?”

“Sure I can,” he replied.

The doctor was a dapper fellow with a goatee, fiery red hair and the devil in his eyes. Somewhat disconcerting, however, was a large jar he kept on his desk that contained what looked like tiny, ghostlike figures, with wide silently screaming mouths. “Don’t be alarmed my dear,” he chuckled, “It’s only a few lost souls. Or should I say bought souls.”

He shaped her nose beautifully. Her profile was now perfect…or was it? Her mouth was crooked. Funny, she hadn’t noticed it before, but now that she was looking in the mirror more and more often, its irregularity was ruining her happiness. She would need her life’s savings for surgery. But it was worth it…for beauty’s sake.

She rang him up. “Dr. Deville,” she said, “I have a terrible problem. Can you help me?” 

“Sure I can.” he replied.

He fashioned her mouth exquisitely making her profile perfect…but wait…her chin—it protruded— horribly—impossibly and she couldn’t stop from looking at herself in the mirror, over and over again! She had to do something—she just had to—for her happiness.  But she had no more money!  

She called the doctor. “Dr. Deville,” she said, “I have a terrible problem, but I have no more money. Can we work out a deal?”

“Sure we can,” he replied.