Oct. 1st, 2003

realexplodingcat: (Default)
Why do doctors seem to automatically assume that if you are not a chipper chipmunk and totally at peace with a physical problem, that the primary course of treatment is to send you to psychotherapy and offer anti-depressants? When will the medical community realize that quite often there are physical reasons for emotional fluctuation? The emotional fluctuation is a symptom of the root physical problem. And if the physical conditions can be balanced, the emotional balance will follow. I think it's One Act Play time, again.

Players:
Dr. Moo - a pretentious cow, wearing a floppy hat and a very long scarf
Mr. Pecker - an angry rooster, wearing sun glasses

Scene:
Old McGuffin's Farm, 10:20 AM, a hayloft converted to a barnyard medical facility


Act I
Dr. Moo:
What seems to be the problem?

Mr. Pecker: Well, Doc, I've been kinda moody and tense. You see, lately, every time I turn my head to the left, my right testicle falls off.

Dr. Moo: Have you sought therapy or considered eating catnip or morning glory seeds to help your mood.

Mr. Pecker: No, Doc. I gotta keep an eye out for tractors while I'm crossing the road, but every time I look to the left, my right testicle drops off and goes rolling around in the dirt.

Dr. Moo: That must make you rather anxious. You need to learn to cope with that.

Mr. Pecker: Of course it makes me anxious. Most people don't realize roosters have testicles, so when it drops off and starts bouncing around, all the pigs and horses start starin' at me like I got no head. And Dingo, that's the farmer's dog, comes runnin' over trying to eat it. Hell yeah, I'm freakin out!

Dr. Moo: This anxiety your feeling, it often goes hand-in-hand with depression and the way we usually deal with--

Mr. Pecker: Doc! I'd feel fine if my testicle didn't fall off every time I looked both ways to cross the street.

Dr. Moo: It sounds like you've been through a lot. Time heals all, but until then counseling--

Mr. Pecker: Why's my balls fallin' off?!?

A sudden BANG from stage left. Chickens and horses yelling and calling.

Offstage: (mechanical buzzy voice) EXTERMINATE, EXTERMINATE!

Two large metal trashcans on wheels come rolling in from stage-left, shooting up the place with laser firing eye-stalks.

Mr. Pecker looks to the left at the incoming robots. His right testicle falls off. He runs around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Dr Moo hastily scatters a mound of hay, revealing an antiquated blue police call-box. He opens the door and squeezes inside. The sound of someone playing a piano with a chainsaw is audible while the police call-box fades from view.

The robots continue blasting away the set, which quickly catches on fire and crumbles down. The robots kill you and everyone sitting next to you in the audience watching this play. The playhouse catches on fire and falls down, destroying the robots and Mr. Pecker (and his testicle). The flames start licking at the pages of this script and you can't read the rest of the story because it was lost in the fire...

January 2009

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