RE: [JMC_Blue_Dwarf] Niples \"Needing a psyciatrist\"

Who: Seymour Niples and Wannie Th'Sane (the new PsychoSociologist) (ooc: if
some of his statements don't seem to fit with the history of the Dwarf, I
suggest reading his profile, or reading to the end of this story, or better
yet, both)
Where: Psychiatry office (specifically Wannie's)
When: Shortly after the away team got back
Wannie led Seymour into his office. He looked around with pride at the faux
wood panelling and the flickering halogen bulb above his head. HIS office,
he could still hardly believe it. He was on the brand new Blue Dwarf, in
his own office. Things were really going his way.
"Isn't this the old broom closet?" asked Seymour with an obvious sniff of
distate. Wannie felt a little of his joy leave his heart, but he refused to
be deterred. He pointed a chair out to Seymour and sat down directly across
from him. He had carefully planned the arrangement so that whoever sat down
in his office would be forced to look up and see the diploma hanging
directly above his head.
"Wow, dude. Sorry, I thought your name was Wannie" said Seymour, in manner
quite unlike his previous arrogance.
"Umm... It is..." replied Wannie, a little taken aback. This session was
not at all going according to plan, he was not supposed to be the one off
balance.
"Then why the smegging hell does your diploma spell your name with two i's?"
insisted Seymour. Wannie looked behind him, and sure enough, he had never
noticed the spelling mistake. "But I do truly love the violet crayon you
used to mispell it, really out there!" 'Right' thought Wannie.
"Ok, to start this session, lets trade seats." They switched seats, with a
slight hesitation by Seymour who seemed reluctant to sit on the recently
vacated seat without first wiping it with a sterilized pad. "Alright, now
that we're all sorted out, lets begin with just a little casual talking.
I'm a little suprised to see someone in my office so soon after launching.
I assume you must be bringing problems with you onto the ship?" asked
Wannie.
He seemed to be genuine, and this completely confused Seymour. "Well, I
guess you could say we just launched... If you're willing to ignore our
first four years in space..." he added 'smegging idiot' under his breath.
Ahhh, now Wannie was truly excited, he was a man who clearly had some
amazing problems. He had already dreamed up almost half a decade worth of
nonsense. He thought he might have heard something on that tv show Dr.
Philbot about letting a patient down slowly. He had never really seen the
fun in that. But he did see the fun in prolonging this poor bastard's
suffering as long as possible.
"So, what is the problem that you seem to have developed over" he suppressed
a giggle "these four years"
"The problem? What is the smegging problem!? How about that I have two
personalities struggling for dominance of my, admittedly, desirous head?"
Screamed Seymour.
"I see" replied Wannie, his brain singing at the joy of just starting his
mission and already finding someone even more fractured then he was. "And
this makes you angry does it?" He found that statement tended to make angry
people quite red.
"Nah," replied Seymour quite smoothly "I just gotta think about the perfect
wave and I find a real transcendent peace washes over me." Amazingly enough
he seemed to be rocking out to a beat which Wannie was unaware of.
"Oh, so you came to see me because..."
"Well, excuse the Esperanto... BUT ARE YOU SMEGGING DEAF?" Screamed Seymour,
actually rising out of his chair. "My head feels like it's literally going
to explode. I got one voice screaming at me to write out a T-283-A form, in
triplicate, because McDonalds uses salad forks which are clearly oyster
forks; and another voice calmly suggesting I meditate for an hour and then
throw a party so large that, if it wasn't itself illegal, it would get
everyone so smashed out of their skulls that every person in attendance
would surely be arrested for committing something. And the truly bizarre
part? Want to know the truly bizarre part?" Wannie had been thinking about
waffles again for a bit there, but he had a feeling that Seymour had reached
some important step on the road to recovery, he nodded. "The really bizarre
part" Seymour continued ranting "is that I have no idea which I would prefer
doing!"
Wannie was sure he knew the problem here. Just like in almost every other
case he had ever heard of, the problem was a complete lack of a loving
childhood. This had almost always been Wannie's diagnosis, and he assured
himself that it was not just because his own childhood had been so woefully
empty of love. "Ambassador, I know exactly what the problem is and I have
the solution." He got up and rummaged around inside a large duffel bag. He
brought out a large bottle of pills. The label was smuged, but there seemed
to be a capital T and a capital C on it. "This is exactly what you are
missing in your life. A little tender loving care, TLC. He shook a couple
out and passed them to Seymour. Seymour sniffed them apprehensively, then
suddenly got a far away look in his eye, shrugged, and swallowed them.
"I'm not feeling anything Doc."
"While we wait for the TLC to kick in, perhaps I had best cure you of
another infliction you seem to have: a false creation of four years of your
life, obviously in response to an unloving Mother.
"Holly" "Yes, Wannie" "Would you please tell our friend here what year it
is?" "Sure thing Wannie. The year is 2104."
Wannie turned to Seymour with a knowing look in his eyes, waiting for the
breakdown reaction the news was sure to elicit. Ahhh, here it came: the
trembling hands as doubt set in; a paranoid scanning of the room as though
waiting for someone to jump out and say 'just kidding'; and finally a burst
of tears as the awful realization hit. Seymour was watching Wannie's
breakdown with initial unease, which gave way to a sort of happy stupour.
"Hey Doc, I really am feeling great. Sorry about your breakdown, but wow,
that TLC was just what I needed. Actually, I'm a little thirsty, no really
thirsty. And fries, oh man could I do with some fries. I'm heading down to
Parotts, see ya around Doc." Wannie didn't even hear Seymour leave.
"Holly" he screamed. "Yo" "Remember" he started much more calmly "when I
walked out of the stasis booth, and you said I had only been in there a
minute...?" "Oh yea, course I do" "And remember just now when you said FOUR
SMEGGING YEARS HAD PASSED?" "Vaguely, yes" "Well which the flying smeg is
it?" "Oh, simple, it's been a few minutes for you, subjectively, and a few
years for the crew, objectively. Nice and easy."
Wannie stood up in a daze. Perhaps the best bet was just to take a little
time for himself, and pretend that conversation had never happened. He
walked out to the receptionist, set the pill bottle on the counter, and
asked her to cancel his appointments for the day. She looked at his
calendar, noting nothing other than a few violet crayon marks where he had
written 'celebrate me today' and then nodded at him. "Perhaps what I need
is some TLC for myself" he said reaching for the bottle.
"Ahh... Sir, where did you get this bottle?" The receptionist asked,
grabbing it before he could. "I bought it off my pharmacist who said he
only dealt the best stuff, straight from British Columbia." "Did he happen"
she inquired "to have his business down a bit of a shady alley?" "Of course
he did, told me if the other PsychoSociologists found out about him he would
have to raise his rates and then we couldn't work together anymore." Replied
Wannie, somewhat smugly. "And I was also wondering" continued the
receptionist "if you had ever wiped this label a bit? Because, I think if
you had you might have noticed that this middle letter is in fact an H, and
not so much an L."
"Well, thanks for the advice, RECEPTIONIST" he retorted, swiping the bottle
back from her "but maybe we'll leave the pharmaceuticals to the
professionals." He stormed back into his office and missed the receptionists
reply of "I wish you would."
"Damn receptionists, think they know more than a highly trained
PsychoSociologist. Besides, everyone knows what TLC is, but who the smeg
ever heard of THC?"
OOC: Well, this is my first attempt. I'm happy for some
advice/feedback/critiques. I assume those probably end up in Parrots, so
I'll keep my eyes open.
<tag, back to onion, or to anyone, or we can just leave it at that>