Oh dear, it’s worse that I thought. You guys have major issues that a virtual cocktail may not fix. All I can do is try, so here goes nothing…
I may be no expert, but Lyle thinks that he has a screw loose. He clearly needs a screwdriver in order to tighten that up. This one is Italian, because everyone knows that the only way to tip-top mental health is regular vacations to Italy. Am I right?
Adrian is the next patient, and it doesn’t look too good–he may need a bit of shock therapy to even out his condition. Haven’t you seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? Sure doesn’t look like fun to me. You might want to stick with the vodka jellies until things get very serious.
Stuart has committed a Freudian slip, and is asking for a four-pint pitcher of Sex on the Beach, when he says he actually wants a half of bitter shandy. As a professional, though, I must say that what he truly wants is a nice helping of Sex and the City.
The lovely Shiv has no psychoses to speak of, but would like to create some by ingesting unhealthy quantities of absinthe. Who knows, it may inspire you to pick up and move to Paris, live in a red windmill, and become a cabaret dancer… if so, can I visit?
Now Vaughan might need a series of sessions with his therapist, seeing as how he has requested a Long Slow Freudian Phallic Imagery Up Against the Wall. You might need to find some of that action yourself, as I really can’t picture exactly what that would entail, but here’s some Tia Maria for you instead. Good luck, brave soldier.
Next in my office is D, who apparently needs to get a new therapist. In the meantime, the best I can do is write him a nice prescription for a Blue Hawaiian with Raw Shark.
One of my very favorite patients has arrived, and she gets to go ahead of everyone else in the waiting room, because I’m tired and she’s brought me a cupcake. Krissa is complaining of a bit of OCD. Finally, an explanation for why her house is always so clean! After a long examination (i.e. a thorough gossip session), I have determined that all she needs is an Orange Cranberry Dewars, plus a bit of vodka. Okay, maybe more than a bit. You’ll have to find your own dark couch to do what you’re thinking of with your boy, though. Sorry, too many patients!
Graybo is feeling a tad bit ghetto today, so he’s going to get his whiskey in a brown paper bag. Is it embarrassment over drinking too much whiskey, or the desire to drink in public? I’ll have my assessment by the end of the day…
Hanni seems to either have no problems at all, or is a recovering alcoholic and doesn’t want to drink. Either way, I prescribe one orange juice. That should keep you going during your football tomorrow.
Doctor Pockless, may I offer you a cold glass of Ribena to cure your throbbing headache? Though it’s not a psychiatric problem, I suppose it counts, since it has to do with your head.
Pix and Green Fairy have come in just before closing time, so I’m going to have to give them a group session. Green Fairy has requested a Special Brew, and Pix would like some nice tequila with all the fixins, and so it is done.
And finally, I’d like to call Mark into my office. He has waited very long in the crowded waiting room, so I would like to offer a bottle of Pol Roger 1990 champagne as a personal apology. And I’m feeling a bit thirsty myself… hope he doesn’t mind sharing.
All right guys, the office is closed. Go home, please! I pronounce you all cured.