Hello and good afternoon. My name is Doctor.
-Excuse me, your name is Doctor?
Yes, that’s right. Doctor.
-Doctor?
Yes, Doctor.
-Is there anything after that?
After what?
-After Doctor.
Well, one time I could have sworn there was this great, big… But no, we’re here to talk about you.
-Oh. Yes. That’s right.
So feel free to say anything that’s on your mind. Within reason of course. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!
-Excuse me, is there something funny?
That’s a little psychoanalysis humor. Get it, you can say anything ‘WITHIN REASON?’ AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
-I don’t get it.
Of course you don’t. That’s why you’re here.
-Huh?
Let’s start again.
-Start again?
Hello and good afternoon. My name is Archibald Heatherington Nastyface.
-WHAT?
Oh, sorry. I’ve been trying a few names on for size. Rolling the syllables around to see if they fit, as it were. I don’t have much hope for that one though.
-Soooooo. Can I just call you Doctor?
Why would you want to do that when you’re sitting here right in front of me?
-I’m confused.
Of course, you are. Why would you want to call me when you can just talk to me right now?
-Oh. I get it. That’s ridiculous.
AHA! Now we’re getting somewhere!
-We are?
Certainly. You’ve just discovered that you’re sitting in my office! Think of the progress you’ve made in just a few minutes! In just one session, as a matter of fact!
-My head hurts. I really don’t think this is working out for me.
Well, nobody ever said that change was painless. But I think we can do something about that head of yours.
-Excuse me?
That head of yours. I can see you’ve got a couple of ugly protuberances on either side and a really awful something or other jutting out from the middle of your face. Don’t you find it stops your forehead from indenting the sidewalk when you fall out of a second-story window? I’ll tell you what, just pop your head into the basket by the side of the door on your way out and I’ll have it cleaned and polished and ready to go for your next appointment.
-AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! (Patient runs screaming through the thin plywood door of the inner office.)
(Doctor pulls out center desk drawer, reaches in and grabs an old-fashioned pair of black eyeglasses attached to a pink plastic nose perched above a thick greasy moustache. He puts the Marxist regalia on his face with dignified aplomb.)
Pushing button on intercom: Miss Byzantium, send in the next gargoyle please.
FIN
Bluntedhedgehog 