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This is the text only version of The Gag insert to Ragged Edge magazine.

This page describes a comic strip titled, "Attack of the gangsta do-gooders."

In the opening frame, two nursie-girls call out to a passing stranger, "Help! you need our HELP!"

Now we see a nurse pointing out some human innards on a flip chart in a classroom. The caption says, "Armed with years of specialized training, these dolls know your insides and outs."

Now two nurses pass a watchful patrolman on the street. One says to the other, "Things always slow down after depression screening week." The caption says, "While law enforcement turns a blind eye, gangs of do-gooders roam the streets, performing interventions. One snatches at the handsome stranger, saying, "You seem stressed, sir. Let us help!"

He turns to her and says, "Help? Yes, i'd like some help..." She continues, saying, "And with the proper treatment.."

He's taken aback. "What!?!" he says. "All I need is directions to a john!"

Now the man stops at a drug store to ask, "Pardon me, but could you direct me to the nearest men's room?" The druggist hands him a bottle of pills, saying, "Here. Take two of these four times a day."

Now we see scenes of do-gooders at work. The caption reads, "Do-gooders are happiest when active. In the early Eighties, they began to outnumber problems which required the solutions they'd been trained for. They suffered from redundancy."

Meanwhile, back in the 'hood, three of the Gangsta Do-Gooders confer. One says, "He's in denial!!!" The other pipes up, "I'm going to try some one on one."

Where will it end? According to recent sightings, they will even... Follow you home!!!

Now she's at his door. He clutches at his brow and says, "Please come in... I do need some ... Some.. Help!!! " Eagerly, she says, " I'll be happy to arrange a diagnosis!"

He's fading fast. He says, "It's those pills ... I no sooner swallowed them...Ook! " He passes out.

The nurses confer. "Just as I thought," says one. "He needs us!" says the other.

Treatments begin. The sick man sweats it out, surrounded by doctors with stethoscopes, nurses with charts. When we see him next, he's just a little boy. A nurse administers an injetion. In the next panel, he's regressed to a babe in arms -- in the arms of the do-gooders. One says, "He sure won't be needing that silly old men's room again!"

Beware the gangsta do-gooders. They're so close to a cure!

End of comic strip.

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