Fake Trip Advisor Review 2

Review of Hotel somewhere in Florida, Dr. Morgan Rutherford


I often summer here and find it to be a remarkable, quaint little retreat. My latest stay was filled with an assortment of surprises. The first of these being the lack of a decent infirmary (I've mentioned this to hotel management on a number of occasions and, lo and behold, another year has gone by without a clever heeding of my requests.) It's no problem anyhow for me as I, thoroughly anticipating their careless non-reform, was smart this time around and brought my tools and surgical instruments. There is, you see, never a reprieve from practice in my own closely scrutinized occupation. Never mind, I take joy in being the sole proprietor of healthcare at this fine establishment even when on holiday.
As for the hotel itself, it's all very good. The wine selection is immense and no exception is the food; bon appetite! Although one minor event of mention occurred when I became aware of the chef's chronic, very obvious case of spastic hemiplegia (his incessant shuffling and imbalanced dynamic equinus gave it away.) I approached him at once and offered to operate and prescribe ankle-foot orthosis but he politely declined. At this juncture, after searching him more closely and following his wandering, palsy eye, I declared a rite of conscience and injected him with an analgesic at once. He stuttered incoherently and passed out right there in the restaurant in front of everyone (it was my intention to time the dosage so that we might have been able to find a more suitable environment to operate…well, c'est la vie! Luckily I had my instruments with me by the table, and I surely began to move in that direction when the staggering, anaesthesized buffoon started in epileptic fits right there on the floor! By the time the management came I was able to escape without notice (I could not work in these conditions.)
I saw Luis only one other time during my trip and luckily, this time, we had a little more quiet time with one another where I could successfully operate without interruption. Of course, again he declined and even threatened to call the authorities (the authorities! I couldn't believe it myself) but I took his jabbering as an indication of hysteria and hypochondria and was successfully able to induce a chemical coma where we could begin the healing process in peace. Now because there is still no infirmary our work space was less than adequate, but we made do on a small wooden table in the janitor's break room (it was a Sunday and they were absent so we had plenty of time.) I was able to drag him there by his arms careful not to bruise his palsy ridden body and prop him up on the table. Luckily I've performed this procedure before and had prepared my tools the night before, these being;

A scalpel for cleaning away raw bits of skull and tissue

A pre-charged round power blade for removing the skull

Swabs

Duct tape

Hoses for cutting off spastic blood spray

Elmer's glue

The surgery went fine up until one of the wait staff, apparently in search of floor cleaning caution signs, rudely interrupted my work. A small debacle ensued where the poor young man, at the sight of our surgical operation, showed signs of mental hysterics and shock, however I was quick to diffuse a scandal by quickly running at him with the ether rag. Problem solved. I dragged him across the floor and brought him over to the next table where I would go to work on him next (you see? No place is in need of an infirmary more than this hotel!) Anyway, moving on, I finished both surgeries at once (in the case of the young man I applied a scalding topical cream to his chest for posterity and shaved his legs to strengthen an aerodynamic physique for future shock incidents.) Now, because the hotel is lacking in surgical goods common in any third-rate hospital ­-there were no IV's for intravenous feeding, I had to improvise, but luckily I was able to disconnect a few hoses from the fountain machines and rig up some kind of needle device rerouting the crème soda directly into blood circulation for both patients.
Work aside, the trip went on pretty well after that, I went horseback riding, swimming, and most days I just lounged around in my room or checked up on the patients in the janitors closet (the manager, a close friend of mine, allowed me full access when I told him our situation and changed the locks to suit our purpose.)
However my days of restful bliss were soon put to a halt and I was called back into duty again when another incident occurred. The manager and myself were enjoying dinner out on the veranda one evening, as we often do, when one of the larger guests began to choke on a bit of meat at the table nearest us. Although we were a bit tipsy there is no one better suited for the job than myself, so of course I had to act. The manager handled crowd control while I managed to escort the choking patient (now turning nearly blue) down the elevator and into the janitors closet. Now because I knew I would need help with this procedure I was sure to call for my close friend the manager who I reached on the janitorial office phone. He was timely enough and although he has little medical training, we made do as we often do. Now in the case of the choking patron, the Heimlich maneuver is often recommended, but not by myself; a surgical incision into the esophagus should be made with the addition of prying clamps to hold the throat open while the object is extracted. Although the manager was slightly intoxicated he was still of great help in this process; aside from his usual techniques I find highly disagreeable (he'll often beat and jabber at the patient, making unnecessary incisions and extracting unaffected organs,) he did quite a good job of pulling out the meat (although this extraction was made orally, which I don't recommend.)
We finally finished the surgery and sewed the patient up after injecting the necessary anesthesia and my own special addition; a small, battery operated blinking light I taped around the esophagus so that, next time our patient dines they will be reminded of previous choking incidents and will appreciate the necessity of chewing carefully. Her family would be pleased to know she's now resting peacefully in the janitors closet near our two other patients, receiving intravenous injections of grape soda (we ran out of the crème.)
The rest of the trip went the same, a few days of rest and relaxation, an incident, and a brief few hours where the hotel manager and I went to work (although some of his methods I found a little obtuse, sometimes doing more harm than good.)
In any case, that about wraps up another summer here. And until the hotel gets an infirmary, another summer spent practicing more than resting, but never mind. Patrons here will be delighted to know that, during the summer months, if anything unexpected should happen I'll be ready and willing to be of service!


-Dr. Morgan Rutherford

Fake Trip Advisor Review 1

Intercontinental Hotel, Tokyo, Japan. Business man in Tokyo.

I just finished up with my business trip in Tokyo while staying at the Intercontinental. I run an at-home body products business online and I came here to try and make a sale to a leading distributor, although when I got here, I couldn't find them, and when I did, there was a communication gap and I was just too disgusted to go on with it. I'm still in Tokyo, writing this at the hotel community room, but I can't seem to find my way out of the country. Really want to leave though. The hotel is fine, but what really got me was how backwards everything is here. They're angry about Pol Pot I think, because when I transferred from my layover in the Philippines to Japanese Air they said they couldn't accommodate me because of my size. I told the stewardess they hate me because we killed Pol Pot and that got her real mad. She started hollering about Alah and everything and I was just lucky I didn't get suicide bombed right then and there. I heard these people like to do this honor killing thing, my buddies warned me about it, but on the plane?! She quit hollering though because she could tell I was real worried. Listen, take my advice, if you ever get threatened by a hysterical Japanese suicide bomber posing as a stewardess on a plane just do what I did. Point towards Tokyo to indicate you just want to get to your destination, then make a sign with your hands as if something is exploding inside them while making an exploding sound with your mouth to indicate you don't want to get blown up, then point at yourself so they know it's you who doesn't want to die. It really works, because the next thing I know she starts crying and yelling something like, "Hiroshimama" or something. Whatever it was, I avoided a real potential problem.
When we landed, I hailed a taxi and pointed to a picture of the hotel I kept on me because I was thinking ahead and heard these people don't read English and are illiterate. He mumbled something and drove me straight there. He was talking about something but I could hardly understand and couldn't make it out, I think he was crazy, but then I learned they all do that and I was really worried about my business trip.
When we arrived at the hotel, my worries were confirmed: their English is incomprehensible, they just do this jabber thing that's just really disgusting. I think its because of the way their faces are shaped that muffle what it is they're trying to say. Anyway, for dining stuff the food was okay…I mean, different, but okay. The problem is you have to unroll the fish yourself, it doesn't make any sense and just means more work, but they bring these sticks out you use to unroll the fish and flatten it, and why do they always forget to bring silverware? I think they want tips or something.
The hotel has a money changing booth but that was another problem: they only give you Disney dollars or whatever, but don't worry, every place I went to takes them. I was embarrassed using them at first around Tokyo but people seemed to sympathize with my situation and accept the monopoly money so that cleared everything up.
Word of the wise: their images of Jesus over here are way off; he's overweight. I couldn't believe it, but he was bald and overweight. I tried pointing this out to a few people but they didn't get it. I took a tour of one of the churches and while I was near the altar, you know, just repulsed and disgusted, I tried explaining to the people around me about how Jesus had a beard and was thinner, when they didn't understand, I took out my sharpie and corrected the statue by putting a beard on it and black holes around the wrists and then took out my red marker and put red all over it. I think they were impressed because the lady started screaming this "Gaijin" thing at me, which, because by this time I was accustomed to understanding what they meant to say, I knew to be "Great." So they were all running around me and showing these guards what I had done and pointing at me saying "Great" and the guards ran up to me to thank me. But I knew about Jesus being modest so I just made my way out of there and decided to avoid the thank you's. I wouldn't have understood it anyway.
When I got back to the hotel they moved me to another room. I'm not too excited about it, the bathroom is actually near the bed and they gave me a roommate I didn't ask for. But I guess it's free because they haven't asked me for any money yet. There's also free internet in the community room but I can't go outside at all which is strange. I figured there must have been a terrorist attack or something.