YOUR ENDOMETRIAL BIOPSY--
INSIST ON GETTING FULL ENTERTAINMENT VALUE!
Lie flat with your legs up in stirrups, and your rear about to plunge into space, covered from the waist down with festive garb draped awkwardly over your knees. Enjoy the cool breezes circulating beneath the drape and up your usually sat-upon parts.
Ask a stranger to tunnel up the old Sugar Speedway and then crank the tunnel open as wide as possible. Chances are there will be a willing volunteer with tools at the ready.
Insist that the practioner (suddenly no longer a stranger) stick a knitting needle in you, as far as it will go. When it pokes you where you should only ever feel the tender kick of a baby-sized foot, tense up as much as possible. If you time it right, this is when the practioner (now past stranger status, and more like an intimate enemy) will say, "You may feel a little pinch."
Hold still as you realize that the knitting needle is not sharp-ended at all, but rather equipped with a little core-sampling screw like a sharpened drain augur, that will cut and then rip out a piece of you that you did not ever realize you cared about so much.
Smile. Make small talk with bystanders. Encourage the collecting of samples as many times and from as many locations in your inner space as the practioner (now elevated to the rank of demon) feels can be gotten away with.
Shaking all over will shorten the amount of time spent in this activity so avoid this. If this is not possible, wild sobbing and screaming may be efficacious in assuring all present in the building that you are fully enjoying getting your money's worth.
This is the ideal time, if you can manage it, to have flashbacks of difficult labors, lost babies, and-- if you are really lucky-- sexual abuses, violations, and disappointments. (If your soul is too numb to achieve these flashbacks, no worries. Instead, comfort yourself with the knowledge that you can count on having flashbacks of this event itself while contemplating or engaging in your next several sexual encounters.)
When it is ended, but before you can sit up, be sure to nod approvingly as the little blood-spewing pieces of YOU float before your eyes in a jar born aloft like a war coup by the proud, beaming hands of Satan, who did the deed. After all Satan deserves to receive admiration as much as the next professional.
Before you leave, thank everyone involved. Exit calmly, smiling at the ladies waiting for their turn to enter the chamber just quit. Over your shoulder, mutter one of two phrases towards the staff bidding farewell, through your firm smile. The obvious choice if Satan is a female is, "Fuck you very much." If Satan is male, you may use instead the famous French saying which translates as, "May a large-beaked bird peck you deeply up the ass." ("Va a coupe d'un oiseau avec un bec grand.")
This procedure is Ladies Only-- sorry guys, we do have a few prerogatives left, even in today's PC climate. And we get to repeat this several months later, usually, until "we are all better now." BUT-- if you are very, very good, you may qualify to accompany one of us next time.