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| Subject: | Zap! |
| Author: | klundtacular (Authenticated as klundtacular) |
| Date: | January 30, 2012 at 7:32:19 PM |
| Reply to: | Re: *tosses fanfic cookies* by La Reina |
Parker Bryant waited in a white room with two chairs and a table. Gaudy bright blue and intense yellow pillows with purple and orange polk-a-dots were littered across the room. The yellow especially hurt Parker's eyes. He sized up the furniture arrangement and then looked at the pillows. He repeated it until he took all the pillows and put them behind the chair facing the door. Then he sat down to wait.
Today was his annual psychological evaluation. He hated these because his job was always to make the assessments of others and having it down to oneself knowingly, it lacked a certain beauty to him.
The door opened and Parker heard a buzzing sound. The man who rushed in clutched a briefcase and had white flecks on his shoulders. He lumbered into the room with a simple sentence.
“Mr. Brent, what happened to my pillows?” An acrid scent filled the air. Parker's nostrils flared and he stopped breathing through his nose.
“You are?”
“Oh yes,” this last word came out as more of a Ya-es of the revivalist televangelists. It caught Parker a bit unawares. The man brought the cheap briefcase to the table, opened it up with pinkie fingers firmly in air, and pulled out a white 5 x 7 index card on a clipboard. In red ink it read: Handsome Happledappleblop (which was had the last four letters crossed out and changed to -blap), Doctor of all things psychological stuff, purveyor of the internationally acclaimed Tarppies Therapy, graduate of Bovine University.
Parker's brow furrowed. This didn't make sense. He'd never heard of Bovine University and if he had, wouldn't it be for cows? He opened his mouth to speak and paused for a slight second.
“I see.”
“Goooooood,” purred Handsome Happledappleblop or blap. His backside trumpeted out agreement. Then the man searched in his front pockets for something. He dug around a bit long as Parker raised an distrusting eyebrow. “Oh wells,” the pocket man muttered before walking behind the patient and throwing pillows back into Parker's visual range. One managed to miss reaching over his head, instead messing up the dark brown hair. Parker slyly looked over his shoulder as the other man worked the pillows, wondering if there's a camera in the room and someone was playing a joke.
“Carppy!” screamed the doctor, causing Parker to jump slightly at the shrillness. Then he realized what was happening. A cocker spaniel puppy had jumped out of the briefcase and pooped on the doctor's chair. “You naughty minx! I hate to use my secret weapon on this, Parkington.,” confided the Happledappleblap reached around Parker, falling on him slightly, sending out a wave of flakes down on everything, while bleating out a tune from gaseous explosions and forcing Parker to jump up and away. “It took me forever to find someone to manufacture banana-scented tissues but I did and now I have to use them to clean up some poo. Sad face.” Here the doctor frowned like an emoticon.
“Did Stephon put you up to this,” Parker growled. His gaze wildly searched for a camera.
“Stephanie who?” Happledapple asked his question while picking up the dog's dropping and throwing them on the floor. Then as precaution, he laid out a cheaply and garishly banana scented tissue on top of the seat and sat down. “Now, Meester Braint, I've been developing this new therapy for Ess and Emma enthusiasts. I call it, drum roll please. No seriously, can't I get a drum roll?” Parker narrowed his eyes and started looking for microphones. “Cocka poodle pillow! Sure I'm not using poodles right now but it could happen.” A wheezing sound filled the room. Parker felt his brain explode. He could very well be getting stupider this very second.This message was edited by the author on January 30, 2012 at 7:43:38 PM
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