View Full Version : PesGaming Group Therapy
As I entered the therapy room several pairs of eyes looked towards me, there was even the odd nodded acknowledgement. I pressed on into the room hoping that many of these unfortunates would be salvageable.
I surveyed the fidgeting masses for a few seconds before taking my seat and introducing myself.
Then it was their turn.
Sat directly to my left and the first to introduce himself was a colourful character named Cookie. His intro was surprising; the patient notes merely had “communication issues”, yet the quickly drawn picture of himself waving and saying hello had shown an obvious and inventive talent. It had soon dawned however that Cookie’s linguistic skills were that of a two year old.
To his left was Dale. Dale appeared fairly normal, apart from the yellow shirt and the fact he was leaning heavily against Cookie. Dale was a recovering alcoholic with a history of public nuisance offences and was attending the session thanks to his last wild bender. The court had been lenient and suspended his sentence in the hope some counselling might help him straighten up. He hiccupped a ‘hiya mate’, before drifting back into a comatose state.
The gentleman next to Dale, while somewhat perturbed by the alcoholics’ odour, introduced himself quite eloquently. His name was Barry. Barry seemed ordinary. Until I realised his feet were not actually touching the floor. There was something about him not liking to get his feet wet and sinking ground, but as yet it didn’t make too much sense.
The man next to Barry however could not be described as normal. Constantly looking over his shoulders and muttering, albeit in incomprehensible babble, his nervous disposition and apparent paranoia meant he barely acknowledged the circle of people around him. I checked his file. Dundons. Schitzotypal. Capitalised letters warned not to get involved in deep discussions on anything vaguely governmental or conspiratorial.
Next was a diminutive creature. While not as active as Dundons, his eyes stayed rarely still. Viperized half introduced himself before changing the subject to some southern football team of little notoriety, soon switching to another altogether different yet still uninteresting topic. His notes hinted towards ADD, I feared it may be worse. AFC.
The next attendee was sat almost directly opposite and fortunately the furthest away. He was a vile snarling creature, still bound in his straight jacket. His file was splattered with the blood of an unfortunate clerk amongst other, as yet unidentified, stains. Psycho – Prison referral – anger management and self control issues. He was only a few months into a ten year stretch for aggravated assault with sado-masochistic undertones and a side order of buggery. His name was Barndoor. “Cunt”. He said.
Pausing only briefly to acknowledge my existence before continuing to lecture Barndoor on what seemed to be anything and everything was Original? His social skills appeared very good, the structure of his language and the intellect required to purvey his ideas were way above the general level of the group. The only hints towards his histrionic personality were his desire to be heard, even by vulgar creatures like Barndoor, his ineffable charm and the obvious question mark after his name.
Genuflecting quietly to the side of Original? Was TheBishop. He had been labelled as having multiple personality disorder but frankly he seemed almost permanently stuck in his alter ego. He blessed me then continued in quiet prayer.
To TheBishops left was Nath. Nath had what had been described as the worst cast of Stoke depression known to man. I have to admit my knowledge of Stoke depression is limited although there is something about it being a long throw from normal depression.
The penultimate in the circle was another small, insignificant character. Going by the name Meyyappen, he was a classic case of Asperger Syndrome. His inability to interact socially was more than evident as he only communicated rarely and made very little sense. He was also known to have some violent, childlike mood swings. There was a rumour he was one of Barndoors old victims, but nothing was ever proven.
The last of the group was certainly an enigma. His constant witticisms were of generally low quality, but in high quantity. Dragonfly had set an all new humour low and been the first diagnosed case of Ken Dodd syndrome in the UK. His greeting was more of an inane chuckle than an actual sentence. I was pleased his tickling stick was confiscated before the session.
I took a moment to survey the group again. I doubted a wider range of psychological issues had ever been confined to one small space before and I knew there were more in the wards yet to be discovered.
Trying not to despair and using my clipboard as a shield from Barndoor’s spittle, I forged ahead into the session...
Mjällharth
27-05-2009, 15:49
An amusing read, but that might change if the Northerner would find himself in that therapy group.
:lol: brilliant.
I'm next to Barry :smug:
Acquiesce
27-05-2009, 16:01
Then Level 6 walked into the room, holding hands with his boyfriend. BarnDoor was so appalled he ordered Dale to throw his bottle of Buckfast at the pair.
Next to Dale? It's like a dream come true.
and the obvious question mark after his name.
:D
Great read fick.
Excellent stuff Fick, I'm looking forward to the next instalment.
nath_scfc
27-05-2009, 16:26
Can I swap seats with Bishop please.
Meyyappan for Christ sake?
I demand Barndoor be let out and rampage Nath's ass.
Whens the next one due Fick?
nath_scfc
27-05-2009, 16:43
Rather that than sit next to Meyappan.
Can I swap seats with Bishop please.
Meyyappan for Christ sake?
You'll sit where your instructed to. It seems we already have a misfit in the group.
Nifty1Pound50
27-05-2009, 18:33
Next was a diminutive creature. While not as active as Dundons, his eyes stayed rarely still. Viperized half introduced himself before changing the subject to some southern football team of little notoriety, soon switching to another altogether different yet still uninteresting topic. His notes hinted towards ADD, I feared it may be worse. AFC.
Very good. :D
Pausing only briefly to acknowledge my existence before continuing to lecture Barndoor on what seemed to be anything and everything was Original? His social skills appeared very good, the structure of his language and the intellect required to purvey his ideas were way above the general level of the group. The only hints towards his histrionic personality were his desire to be heard, even by vulgar creatures like Barndoor, his ineffable charm and the obvious question mark after his name.
Also very good.
Sat directly to my left and the first to introduce himself was a colourful character named Cookie. His intro was surprising; the patient notes merely had “communication issues”, yet the quickly drawn picture of himself waving and saying hello had shown an obvious and inventive talent. It had soon dawned however that Cookie’s linguistic skills were that of a two year old.
Damn, where's my crayons, I need to sketch a pic to accurately portray how I'm feeling right now. :realmad:
Dragonfly
28-05-2009, 12:26
Damn, where's my crayons, I need to sketch a pic to accurately portray how I'm feeling right now. :realmad:
Surely that's plagiarism?Like all your work.
“...yet, in the current socio-economic crisis it is not really a viable option.” Said Original?
Dragonfly looked bemused and for once was short of a pun. “I only asked the time” he said.
“Gentlemen, please can we return to the issue at hand?” I looked at my watch. 15 minutes had passed during Original?’s diatribe and the session was only due to last an hour.
“Okay, so, we’re looking at why we are here and more importantly, what we can do to help ourselves and each other”
“I can help myself to Meyyappen” said Barndoor, thought sneering, spittle flecked lips.
“Thank you Barndoor, but I think that defeats the object of him actually receiving any constructive help”.
Meyyappen whimpered.
“Well Barndoor”, I continued while setting my clipboard to defence mode “seeing as how you seem so eager to voice an opinion, maybe you should start us off?”
“Nothing to say to you, fucker”
A piece of paper was hurriedly pushed in front of my face. On its surface was a beautifully rendered self portrait of Cookie with his arm raised in the air, akin to a pupil trying to attract the teacher’s attention.
“Yes Cookie, what is it?”
Paper now back on his lap, Cookie scribbled furiously. In no time at all he raised the sheet again to show a disturbing image of a brute that looked similar to Barndoor, backscuttling a small, battered and bloodied creature who’s only identifiable feature was a mouth screaming in pain.
“Oh!”
Cookie turned the sheet to allow the rest of the room to see it. As it turned I noted their reactions. Most appeared disgusted, Meyyappen feinted and Dundons covered his rear. Only Barndoor smiled. “Good times”, he said.
“Good times?” I asked. “Good times. Is that how you see such depravity?”
“Gash”, came the response.
“He is an evil that even hell hath not seen” said TheBishop, “His kind is no creation of our lord. He is an abomination, a repugnant blight on our earth, a vile and nauseati...”
“Thanks for the input TheBishop, but I think we ought to keep things positive here”
“Hey Bish” said Barndoor, “I always fancied being in the clergy. All those little boys in dresses, hmmmm, yummy!”
“Me no like him” shouted Meyyappen, a shaking arm pointing vaguely in Barndoor’s direction. “He nasty man.”
“Admittedly, he’s not the most pleasant of people. It’s hard to find anything positive to say about the man” agreed Barry.
Barndoor roared with laughter “Ha! Judged by a retard and a dyke plugger! Could it be any more damning?”
“Damn, dyke! Nice one BD!” said Dragonfly. I’ll have to remember that one.
“If I may interject?” proffered Original?
“Why not, everyone else has” I said.
“What Barndoor suffers from is obviously linked to an unhappy childhood, probably affected by poor economic stability and possible abuse.”
“Wrong, fuckwit. Hey doc? Does this pompous axe wound have to sit next to me?”
“Yes”, I said, “Look Barndoor, it’s obvious you have some issues regarding your behaviour. You are obscene, brash, inconsiderate of others and frankly have one of the most aggressive personalities I think I have encountered”
“And the bad points?”
Involuntarily my palm moved to my forehead. I took the opportunity to look at my watch. Shit. Only half the session gone. I raised my eyes and decided to change tack.
“Does anyone other than Barndoor have any insight?”
Frantic scribbling ensued. Another piece of paper was thrust in front of my face.
“Cookie, you could just raise your hand, rather than drawing it.”
“Hi, my names Dale and I’m an alcoholic” came a voice from Cookie’s shoulder. “My doctor said I should only drink one day a week. Problem is I couldn’t decide which one, so chose them all.”
“Thanks Dale.”
Another sheet appeared before me. This time it had a picture of Cookie holding up sheet saying ‘sorry’.
“Please Cookie, what’s on your mind? Or your piece of paper?” Cookie began to scribble.
“Doc?” This time it was the so far silent voice of Nath.
“Yes Nath?”
“Doc, why am I in here with these nutjobs?”
“Because you’re a Stoke supporter Nath. There is little modern medicine can do for you”
“But all they do is give me electric shock treatment.”
“I know Nath, I know. We couldn’t actually think of anything else to help you out of your masochistic obsession.”
Cookie shoved a new piece of paper in front of me.
“Cookie, we only have ten minutes left. Cross your legs or something”
A look of realisation flashed across Barry’s face and he nervously looked at the floor below Cookie’s chair.
“Look guys”, I said “we really are going to have to work on our communication here if we intend to get anywhere. Due to certain patients limited freedom we only get an hour and I don’t really want to waste it on trivialities”.
“They’re my favourite. Much prefer them to Cadbury’s roses” said Viperized.
With a strange series of wriggling motions, Barndoor dislocated and re-located his right arm until it was free from the straight jacket. Pausing briefly to look ruefully at it, he brought it down hard onto Viperized’s head with a sickening thud. Viperized’s limp body slumped to the floor.
A further series of dislocations saw Barndoor’s arm back in his straight jacket. “Never did like that guy.” He said.
“Hmmm. I think we should call it a day at that.” I said.
Mjällharth
01-06-2009, 16:53
This is genius. Write a book. Please.
:lol: Barndoor nearly escaped!
Meyyapan is in for it when he does. :ninja:
Excellent stuff again fick. I'd love to see some more members turn up.
BarnDoor
02-06-2009, 11:06
Nice. I want my true escape to involve much massacre in my wake.
Excellent stuff again fick. I'd love to see some more members turn up.
Nice. I want my true escape to involve much massacre in my wake.
Ironically I have something planned... ;)
I'd like to see someone secretly supplying me with alcohol :shifty:
“I have concerns about how the whole group thing is shaping up” I said.
“Poppycock” said the figure from the other side of the large, antique desk. “Group therapy is the only option available to us at present due to the number of crazy people we have in here at the moment.”
I sat back in the purposely uncomfortable visitors’ chair and studied the panel in front of me. Hunter and his sidekick Phatmann sat away slightly to one side. I had been told these two were in charge of security and visitor safety. Their badges of office proudly displayed under their names. I got the impression they wouldn’t take much provocation to throw their weight around and filed the thought under ‘must remember’.
To the right of centre was Papa, the assistant manager. I had little knowledge apart from the name, but I knew from the way the others courted his favour that he held some sway. Despite being a trained judge of character I decided to reserve mine, after all, there was something about Papa that I didn’t trust.
Far right was a strange, deformed creature called Laughing Man. Despite the name he was anything but humorous. I had heard he represented patient’s rights, either that or he was actually a patient.
The last of the five faces in front of me, and the only one I had met one before, was a suave Spaniard by the name of Miggy. He had been the one who interviewed me originally for the job, when he could stop his eyes and hands roving at the passing skirt. It was he who now spoke again.
“Look, Doc, I fully explained the situation before you agreed to take the job.”
“As far as I remember it you were more intent on discussing the finer points of summer camel toe.” I was not graced with a retort. “Anyway, that’s not the point is it? A patient was killed yesterday, right there in the room by another patient. A patient who was supposedly restrained.”
“I am afraid it is actually impossible to restrain Barndoor.” The man who had been introduced to me as Hunter said.
“But he was wearing a fucking straight jacket!”
“I know”, said Hunter “but that was his own choice.”
“What?!”
“It’s true” said Phatmann. “We tried chains, cuffs, plastic cable ties and everything, but nothing keeps the guy down. He’s an animal that one.”
“Evidently. It’s not just him though. One guy keeps drawing pictures of himself with his hand up when he wants to speak...” this raised a few smiles between the men.
“Ahhh, Cookie. Lovely bloke” said Miggy, “he designed the layout for our website you know. Very special”
“So it would seem, but is he really the kind of person to have in the same group as Barndoor?”
“I see your point”. Papa motioned to the others, “My colleagues and I had many a five minute discussion on the groupings and came to the conclusion that it would be done by picking straws. A perfectly reasonable selection process I do believe”
“Picking straws?”
“Yes”
“This was the whole process of patient selection?”
“Yes” The row of nodding heads reminded me of a scene from Wayne’s World.
“Are you serious?”
“Doc, if you have a problem with the way we run this establishment then I am sure you know where the front door is. Do remember however that these people need your help”
“Fine. So, what happens now regarding Viperized’s seat?”
“I... I mean, we, have already allocated the seat to a new patient who arrived with us last night.” I don’t know if it was the evil grin that flashed across Papa’s face, or the wringing of the hands that made me suspicious, but I felt the need to ask who.
“Who?” I said. (See, told you!)
As I left the room it was with the feeling that I was providing counselling to the wrong group of people.
Nifty1Pound50
03-06-2009, 08:39
Excellent third chapter.
Setting it away from the patients themselves give it a roundness that it lacked prior.
“I... I mean, we, have already allocated the seat to a new patient who arrived with us last night.” I don’t know if it was the evil grin that flashed across Papa’s face, or the wringing of the hands that made me suspicious, but I felt the need to ask who.
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/29/100276794_548c83c4eb.jpg
Another great chapter fick. Not quite sure what Laughing Man's doing in with the admins and mods though. :erm:
Nifty1Pound50
03-06-2009, 10:08
Not quite sure what Laughing Man's doing in with the admins and mods though. :erm:
I had heard he represented patient’s rights
I guess he's being depicted as the intermediary man of the people?
L . F . C
03-06-2009, 10:21
Some quality writing mate. Keep it up!
“Good morning gentlemen”.
“Hey Doc” said Dale.
“Piss flaps” said Barndoor.
Cookie frantically waved a piece of paper at me.
“Yes Cookie, there is a new guy in the room. Gents I’d like to introduce you to Jin”
Sat in the still bloodstained seat recently vacated by Viperized sat what can only be described as the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.
“Oh, Hai guys” it said.
I could see Barndoor beginning to fidget. “Barndoor, let’s try and have a death free session please.” I could tell from his demeanour and the heartfelt gesture that this new suggestion did not go down too well.
“Okay gents, after the rather abrupt end to the last session, I’d like to start this one by opening the floor for any positive comments about each other.”
Barry looked nervously at the ground.
“It’s metaphorical Barry. The floor isn’t going to sink”
Barry relaxed slightly.
“Not this second anyway, clogboy” said Barndoor.
“Right, who’s first?” I suggested, hoping Barry might at least stay on the chair and not aim for the light fittings, “TheBishop? How about you?”
“I love everyone. It’s my job, as ordained by God”
“O-kay... bad choice. Dale?”
“I love all yous guys” he slurred.
“Frying pan, fire”. I looked towards Original? who was looking ready to enlighten us with some severe rhetoric on social status and the futility of love in a modern society.
“Dundons?” I said.
“What?”
“I was asking if you had anything good to say about the group?”
“What group?”
“The group we’re all in, here”
“I’m not in any group. Whoever told you that is a liar.”
“I’ve got something positive to say” Said Barndoor. All eyes turned to him, most with a sense of disbelief. In the moment of silence that followed I could hear the scratching of Cookie’s pencil on the sheet of paper in his lap. From the corner of my eye I could see that he was drawing a picture of himself with his hands over his own ears. It didn’t bode well.
“Go ahead Barndoor” I uttered reluctantly.
“I like Meyyappen.”
“Good, go on...”
“I like his quiet attitude, even though he is very nervous.”
“Good, good...”
“I think he’s a really nice guy, who wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Well done Barndoor, a really good effort. Now who’s...” I didn’t get to finish.
“What I really like about him though, is the way he squeals like a little piggy when I...”
“Thank you Barndoor! I think that’s more than enough positivity from you for now”
“Anyone else?” I proffered. “Jin, we haven’t heard from you yet”
The toothy grin that had not left Jin’s face since the start of the session barely flickered. “Hai guys. You all seem pretty cool. Does my bum look big in this gown by the way? It’s not really my colour. I’m not sure about the slippers either they make my feet look huge from this angle...”
Barndoor began to fidget.
“...as for my teeth, it took weeks to get them this white, u-huh, totally. Bleaching is the answer. Of course I’d love porcelain but that was just waaay too expensive so it’ll have to wait a while...”
“Aint that the Tooth!” laughed Dragonfly, “geddit? Tooth, truth?!”
“reallyloveyousguys.” Said Dale.
As the spark of stupidity spread through the group like a Californian bushfire, so Barndoor became more restless.
Jin continued his narcissistic rant, “...wow, I’m so tanned and you guys are really pale! I’ve got this moisturiser that also helps you tan, it’s just so, like, super!”
“Such vanity is immoral. We should only worship the one true God in whose image we are all made” added TheBishop.
Original? Turned to his left and clipped TheBishop around the back of the head. “God?” he said, “He, of course, is a mere fabrication of the human mind. The big bang is where it all began, not the implausible theory of some hypothetic, omnipotent deity being responsible for everything”.
“That’s what you’d all like to think, isn’t it?” said Dundons.
“Actually, yes” said Bish.
“I don’t care why anyone else is here. I only said I was from Stoke...” Sulked Nath.
“If God was omnipotent, how did he end up having a son?” said Dragonly through a veil of his own tears.
The sound and sight of a recently unfastened straight jacket hitting the floor in the centre of the circle stopped everyone dead.
The shaking arm of Cookie, complete with a shaking piece of paper depicting himself shaking with fear, was shakily pushed into my line of sight.
With my view temporarily blocked, I was uncertain as to who was receiving the wrath of Barndoor. The only hint to the severity was the splatter of blood that hit the other side of the sheet.
“Shit” I said. “Here we go again...”
BarnDoor
04-06-2009, 08:07
Fantastic, the rampage is upon us.
Excellent. I loved:
“Dundons?” I said.
“What?”
“I was asking if you had anything good to say about the group?”
“What group?”
“The group we’re all in, here”
“I’m not in any group. Whoever told you that is a liar.”
:laugh:
I seem to be quite the twitchy lad. Keep it up!
Haha Dundon's bit was brilliant!!
Dragonfly
04-06-2009, 13:26
Can you kill me off, please?
Can you kill me off, please?
... wait your turn...
Spoiler:
read the next session - to be posted up in the morning...
Dragonfly
04-06-2009, 16:37
Make it an ironic death: literally dies on stage during a stand up performance?
“Two deaths in one session doc? That’s pretty impressive stuff!”
“Three in total now boss”
The gleeful faces of Hunter and Phatmann rubbed proverbial salt into an already proverbial raw wound.
“Look, I warned you this wouldn’t work.” I said.
“Warned, schmorned.” Said Miggy.
“What the hell does that mean, exactly?”
Miggy looked at Papa. “Erm... exactly what I meant it to.” Papa nodded a quiet approval.
“It’s a good job this place is an asylum seeing as how everyone in here is mad.” I took my seat in the uncomfortable chair.
“The good Doctor is more right than he knows...” Papa shot Laughing Man a look that could freeze Nado’s Piri-Piri sauce.
“I thought Cookie was a bad idea in a group with Barndoor, but for Christ’s sake, Jin?”
“It was given much consideration, Doctor” said Papa.
“Another ‘straw’ poll?” I asked.
“Very amusing Doctor.” Papa rose from his chair and moved towards the window. “I am sorry you feel things are not working out well here and I assure you we will do our upmost to rectify your concerns.”
“What? Find another lamb to Barndoor’s slaughter?”
“We have an obligation to fill ten seats per session Doctor. As we now have two free I will allocate patients to them accordingly.”
“Actually we have one seat” Said Hunter. “We’re still having trouble removing the other from Dragonfly’s rectum...”
As the door to the office closed behind me I heard someone receiving a quiet reprimand. Followed by a thud.
My mind drifted back to the last session. As the only two unharmed, Cookie and Barry had been kind enough after the event to explain and draw what had transpired.
From what I could glean, Barndoor had ripped Jin’s head clean from its mountings and hurled it at Dale, knocking him back off his chair and into a concussion in the process. It was reported that Jin’s corpse-less head was still fixed in a glassy grin despite the trauma.
Barndoor had then turned his attention to his left.
It was the general consensus that Original? was not an intentional target but was merely used a projectile to knock the Bishop and Nath out of the way.
Dragonfly didn’t fare as well. He would’ve been okay had he kept his mouth shut, but a poorly timed quip about it being an ‘original’ way to ‘bash the bishop’, sealed his fate. Quite how the chair ended so far up Dragonfly’s backside I don’t know as Cookie had drawn a large censored bar across the scene.
Meyyappen on the other hand had a lucky escape. Hunter and Phatmann had burst into the room just in time, with the assistance of tasers and a banning stick, and dragged him clear of Barndoor’s rage. He was returned to his cell later with severe bruising and a few small scuffs, though where he got these no-one could confirm.
So who did that leave me?
A concussed drunkard, albeit I doubted anyone would notice the difference. A damaged Original?. One particularly battered Bishop. An electrified Nath and a possibly, albeit justifiably, abused Meyyappen.
Not forgetting the graphic Cookie and an aqua phobic Dutchman.
Then there was Barndoor.
There was something about Barndoor that didn’t make sense. Why bother to give help to a deranged, homicidal maniac? If you do give help, why do it in a group scenario? Especially a group with so many fragile personalities?
And what next? Who did Papa have in mind for the spare seats?
There was definitely something afoot, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
From what I could glean, Barndoor had ripped Jin’s head clean from its mountings and hurled it at Dale, knocking him back off his chair and into a concussion in the process. It was reported that Jin’s corpse-less head was still fixed in a glassy grin despite the trauma.
Dragonfly didn’t fare as well. He would’ve been okay had he kept his mouth shut, but a poorly timed quip about it being an ‘original’ way to ‘bash the bishop’, sealed his fate
:laugh:
So who did that leave me?
A concussed drunkard, albeit I doubted anyone would notice the difference. :lol:
Banning stick :laugh:
Dragonfly
06-06-2009, 13:37
If Sweey was alive, would he have a moan about all these not being in one thread?
Can I come back as a ghost, please?
Probably.
I reckon when it comes to a close (hopefully not soon) we move it all into one legendary thread.
Dragonfly
06-06-2009, 13:43
Fick's PESGaming Anthology? I like it.
It was with apprehension that I opened the secure door into the therapy room. Were there to be two new attendees or just one? Were the survivors of the last session in any fit state to continue? How many would walk out this time?
The sight in front of me as I entered was rather unexpected. For one, they had obviously recovered Dragonfly’s chair, and hopefully cleaned it after its recent... ‘repositioning’. Yet both this chair and the one that Jin had vacated both sat empty.
The second surprise was Barndoor. He was no longer wearing his easily removed straight jacket, instead it had been seen fit to suspend him from the roof on a crudely attached meat hook using several, very sturdy looking chains.
“How are we doing today?” I asked. “Everyone in pretty much one piece?”
“Myheadhurstlikeafucker” said Dale.
“Okay. Let’s try something new here shall we?”
“Anything would be an improvement I’m sure” said Original? snidely.
“We’ll move on a few steps then...” I was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in”
Papa entered, Hunter and Phatmann in tow, and between them a limp, hooded figure.
“New blood, Doctor.”
“Just the one?”
“No, no. The other patient is waiting outside”
The first was dumped unceremoniously onto the seat next to the gently swaying Barndoor. Hunter and Phatmann then went back to get the second. On the way past, Hunter gave Barndoor a push.
“You’ll regret the day your mother ever shat you out of her rotting cunt”
“Yeah Barndoor, whatever” said Hunter.
I rose from my seat, “Papa, I’d prefer if your goons didn’t rile the patients. Especially one you seem to have gone to such extremes to restrain”
“Quite” said Papa.
The security team returned with the second patient. I recognised him as soon as he came through the door. It was laughing Man.
I followed Papa out of the therapy room in the hope of getting answers.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I said, gesturing back into the room.
“You have a session to run, Doctor. Your patients are waiting.”
“Are you serious? I thought Laughing Man was part of the board?”
“The security door is open, Doctor. I suggest you attend to the immediate problem of Meyyappen trying to escape and come and see me after the session.” With that he turned away.
Turning back to the room I saw the lower legs and feet of someone being dragged back into the room. Taking a deep breath I walked back in.
“How?” I asked for the fourth time. Barndoor stared back at me.
“Did anyone help him? If you did I need to know now.”
From his new position, sat back in his chair, Barndoor grinned.
“I was only gone a minute, there’s no way he could’ve done it by himself”
The deafening silence persisted.
“Fine. Have it your way then. Just remember if he kills anyone that I warned you, okay?”
A mumbled voice came from the hooded figure.
“Barry, can you remove the hood please?”
“Why me?”
“Because Barndoor would likely remove the head as well”.
“Fair point.” He reached over and pulled the hood clear of the new attendee’s head.
Gasps of shock filled the room.
“Didn’t see that coming” I said.
“Neither did he looking at the bump on the back of his head!” added Original?
I had, had my suspicions about Papa, this latest surprise only helped to confirm them.
“Okay guys,” I looked at barndoor, “and especially you, lets keep this civil. No unnecessary violence until we’ve cleared this up.”
It was clear from the vacant expression and evidence of blood around the collar that the blow to the head had been quite severe.
Cookie pushed the obligatory piece of paper in front of me. The picture depicted the group, including its new additions stood in line at the top of a hill, on a street lined with houses. A road name was prominently displayed on the end house.
It read: “Shit Street”
I'm always the one to stick my hand in the fire!
Might be a wee delay on the next session... work is getting in the way :faceplm:
I love how I, a mere mod, seem to be in charge of this whole operation with admins as my "goons". It's the way it should be really. :ninja:
Good stuff fick, looking forward to the next instalment, whenever it is. :)
“We’re all truly fucked now!” laughed Barndoor.
“What does this mean?” asked Barry
“It means you’re up a fast flowing, shitty creek without a paddle!”
Barry lifted his feet a few inches higher.
“I think it’s obvious what has transpired” said Original? looking particularly smug with himself, “there has been a alteration in the balance of power.”
“You don’t say? I’d never have thought of that” Barndoor rolled his eyes.
The newly revealed attendee groaned. “Where am I?” he said.
Cookie began scribbling.
“It’s okay Cookie, I’ve got this one. You’re in one of my sessions Miggy.” I said.
Apart from the odd, “I guessed that”, and, “hmmm”, from Original?, the group listened attentively to Miggy’s story.
He had been sat at his desk perusing the latest issue of Just 17, (before he passed an interesting feature about Lizzy McGuire onto Barry :ninja: ) when Papa and his goons had burst into his office. Hunter and Phatmann had stood near the door while Papa continued toward the window on the far side. According to Miggy’s testimony, Papa had then distracted him with some pictures of naked ladies before clubbing him viciously on the back of the head several times.
Then a couple of times more to make him let go of the pictures.
“Did he not tell you of his nefarious intentions?” Asked Original?
“Nefari-what?” replied Miggy, somewhat dazed from the recent distressing removal from the presence of naked ladies.
“His plans...”
“Oh. No. Actually...” there was a pause. A pause that was normally filled in by the steering hand of Papa. “Err...yeah; actually he did say something about a ‘plant’ in the room”.
“A plant?” asked Barry. “Was it a cheese plant?”
Barndoor groaned loudly, “No, not a cheese plant, you fucking flatlander.”
“Wassitanicebouquetofflowersor summink?” Said Dale.
“Shouldn’t you be fucking sober by now?”
“S’right!” slurred Dale while giving an unsteady thumbs up.
“I have an idea” Said TheBishop, “perhaps he was referring to someone put in the session on purpose to garner information. Or perhaps for some other underhanded deed...” he added.
All eyes turned to Barndoor.
“Oy fuckers, what are you all looking at me for?”
The unmistakable sound of chairs being scraped across the floor filled the room.
“You ungrateful bastards.”
“I can understand their concerns, Barndoor.” I said, “After all, you have single handedly, or with the aid of a chair, caused the demise of 3 of the group.”
“Fucking typical. You off a few headjobs and all of a sudden your public-fucking-enemy number one eh?”
“You can surely see the point though. If Papa wanted rid of certain people, it certainly wouldn’t hurt his reputation if a lunatic such as you happened to kill them during therapy sessions now, would it?”
“Yeah, it’s not as if you’re mad or anything” added TheBishop.
“Or from Stoke...” said Nath, miserably.
“It’s not Barndoor” Said Miggy. “He came here on my suggestion as all other correctional institutions had failed him.”
“Well, who then?”
Cookie held up a sheet with ‘Not me!’ in large letters.
“I reckon it’s Meyyappen” said Barndoor, “I suggest a severe buggering from each of us would get the truth out of him”
“I told you.” Said Dundons in a hushed voice.
“Sorry Dundons, what was that?”
“I told you Doc. I told you all. None of you believed me, but I did warn you”
“Warned us about what?”
“It’s been planned for millennia. It’s all written in secret texts in the Daily Mail letters columns...”
Original? turned sharply to face Dundons, “Seriously Dundons, your paranoia is becoming more than bothersome. At worst you are a paranoid delusional, at best a gibbering idiot.” He turned back to face Barndoor. “If you would be so kind?”
Barndoor stood, walked purposefully over to Dundons, knocked him out cold with one swipe of his malevolent fist, and then returned calmly to his seat as if nothing had happened.
“Right, that’s enough of that, thank you. Now, I’m going to see Papa and see if I can clear this mess up. You lot stay right here.” Stopping half way to the door I turned back, “oh, and no killing anyone please Barndoor.” Barndoor started to raise his hand. “And no, no buggering either.” Head shaking, his hand lowered.
I turned back towards the door. In the four strides it took to get there I contemplated what lay ahead. Would Papa actually let me speak to him about what was going on? Would I suffer the same fate as Miggy?
Probably your best so far, nice work. Though that really is a low blow right there :ninja:
Haha brilliant. Maybe the best one yet?
“I reckon it’s Meyyappen” said Barndoor, “I suggest a severe buggering from each of us would get the truth out of him”
:lol:
For those who may (or not) be interested, this hasn't died any kind of death.
As you may have seen from another thread I have no longer got access to the site during work hours so it has delayed the issue of session 8.
It will be coming early next week
...once I get it off my work PC & bring it home :faceplm:
I agree with the lads above, one of the best. I'm really getting in to this!
“It’s been planned for millennia. It’s all written in secret texts in the Daily Mail letters columns...”
:laugh:
The door was locked and my swipe card was no longer accepted. “Damn”, I thought.
“What’s up Doc? Changed your mind?” said Barry.
“Nope, it would appear my security card has been deactivated.”
There was a loud burst of laughter, followed by the sound of a deranged killer falling off his chair. “We really are all fucked now then, eh?” he laughed.
“So it would seem Barndoor, so it would seem.”
“So what now Doc?”
“I’m not sure Barry. We’re definitely in deep water though.”
Barry shrieked and jumped onto his chair.
“Sorry Barry, I didn’t mean it literally.”
The group sat motionless, as if waiting for some direction. I damn well hoped they weren’t waiting for me. If truth be told, I was as stuck for what to do next as they were.
Cookie held out a picture of himself shrugging his shoulders. A question mark carefully scribed into a small speech bubble coming from his mouth.
“You know what Cookie? I’m not sure.”
“We could pray for forgiveness and for God to help us in our hour of need.”
Barndoor let out a haughty laugh. “Hour of need?” he said, “You’ve been here six months you stupid bastard and no-ones helped you yet!”
“God works in mysterious ways” responded TheBishop, calmly.
“And U2 move in mysterious ways. Problem is neither is of any fucking use at the minute.”
“If you feel the need to pray TheBishop, then go ahead. If you want to pray for Barndoor as well it won’t hurt, after all if there is something beyond this life then he’ll need all the help he can get!”
“Very funny Doc.” Said Barndoor.
“Erm... excuse me, but has anyone noticed that Laughing Man hasn’t moved yet?” Said Nath.
On closer inspection it appeared that Laughing Man had sustained a similar injury to Miggy. Only with slightly more severe consequences than just a headache.
I checked for a pulse. “Dead.”
“Why put a dead guy in here?” said Nath.
“To make a change from taking them out?” said Barndoor mischievously.
“Perhaps they didn’t realise they killed him” proffered Barry
“Or perhaps, they knew they had killed him and it was a ploy to scare us” added Dale.
“Why try and scare us with a dead body when...” Barry paused and looked suspiciously at Dale. “What did you just say?”
Dale hiccupped, “whasssat?” he slurred.
“I suggest rather than worrying about the presence of a deceased individual that we endeavour to ascertain who the insider is before we meet the same fate.” Said Original?, taking advantage of Barry’s sudden distraction.
“I’ll find out who it is, starting with Meyyappen...” said Barndoor, rising from his chair. Before anyone could stop him (not that anyone appeared to try) he had Meyyappen pinned to the wall by his neck.
“So, you malodorous little cunt, we know you’re the snitch. Time for your faggoty little arse to spill the beans. Then perhaps a little blood.”
“It wasn’t me!” protested Meyyappen with a girlish squeak.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, it isn’t Meyyappen” I said.
“How can you be so sure Doc?” asked Miggy. Cookie held up a picture of a question mark.
“Simple. Papa is a ruthless individual, right? Would he really trust a measly little gnat who is likely to tell everything at the first sign of trouble? Very unlikely.”
“Good point.” Said Miggy.
“But surely that’s just supposition?” said Original?
“Well, not wholly. When Miggy and Laughing man were brought in, I went out to speak to Papa. While papa didn’t actually tell me what was going on, he did point out that Meyyappen was trying to escape the room.”
“So?”
“So, if Meyyappen had been the inside man, would Papa want to leave someone in here who might have incriminating information?”
“You sound like you know who it is.” Said Barry.
“Actually, I have a pretty good idea.”
“This should be enlightening”, sneered Original?
Very good. I'm enjoying my depiction.
http://consuelogdelcid.blogia.com/upload/20071031180458-al-pacino-godfather.jpg
“Why put a dead guy in here?” said Nath.
“To make a change from taking them out?” said Barndoor mischievously.
:laugh: Brilliant.
“...and that’s why I believe it’s him.” I finished, to a room of stunned faces, barring one who was now bound using the remnants of Barndoor’s restraints.
“Are you serious?” said Miggy.
“I’m afraid so. It’s the only plausible answer.”
“But he seems such a nice guy, I can’t understand it”
“A muffled voice from the floor protested “I am!” it said.
“Looks can be deceiving, Miggy.”
“So why did he do it?”
“That I don’t know.”
“Perhaps we should go back to my previous plan of fudging it out of him” suggested Barndoor.
“Sorry Barndoor, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Too fucking right” said the muffled voice.
I looked at the now despondent heap on the floor. It had been obvious really. He had after all been the one with the least plausible reason for being here. The ridiculous ‘drunk’ act had been initially amusing, but pointless after the first session. Dale looked back at me with what seemed to be a look of fear in his eyes. Either that or trapped wind. Next to him lay the lifeless body of Meyyappen. My gaze shifted to Barndoor.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that Doc. You should’ve told me to let him down before you started telling us who the snitch was.”
“Surely that was obvious?” I said.
“I got distracted.” Barndoor’s face was straight when he said this, but there was no mistaking the gleam of pleasure in his eyes.
All eyes turned back to Dale.
“Remove the gag” I said.
“About time!” said Dale, “did you have to use Barndoor’s underwear as the gag, seriously?”
“No, but it seemed like a good idea at the time” grinned Barndoor.
“Alright Dale, time for some answers.”
“Fine, Doc. What do you want to know?”
“What’s Papa’s game?”
“PES” Dale answered with a glib smile.
“Ok, let me re-phrase that. What’s he up to?”
“About his third season on the Master league” came another mocking retort.
Original?, showing poorly disguised frustration, took over.
“Dale, presuming you are sentient of anything at all, it would be prudent for you to acquaint us with all pertinent information you have vis-à-vis the strategy that Papa has for us and additionally for this here establishment.”
Dale looked at me.
“What the fuck did he just call me?”
“What he means is, tell us everything or it could end up being pretty uncomfortable for you”. I said.
“Well why the hell didn’t he just say that?”
Dale went on for some time. He told us how he came to be involved with what was to become the Papa Corp, an evil hotchpotch of likeminded schemers intent on global domination. Papa was the spearhead. The Don. The top dog. The leading light. The gaffa’. The main man. Barndoor had kicked Dale violently in the nether regions by this point to move the story on.
From what Dale could tell, Papa’s scheme would involve the use of psychiatric patients as an army. Groups like the one we were in were being ‘tested’ all over the world for suitable candidates, preferably those without any morals or the capability of understanding what a moral was. Dale’s task had been to monitor our group for such suitable candidates and report back.
“So why the crap drunk act?” I asked.
“I was trying to be an idiot so I’d blend in”
“Strangely enough, you’re doing a better job of that now than before” said Miggy.
“Yeah, fuck you too.”
Cookie raised a hand.
“Go ahead Cookie”
The picture he handed me consisted of three well crafted words: ‘what now Doc?’
“I suggest...” Barndoor began.
“Barndoor, please tell me this doesn’t involve any acts of necrophilia on Meyyappen” I said.
“No!” he protested loudly. “I was going to say, we should arse rape Hunter and Phatmann’s mothers until they beg their sons to let us out.”
“Fascinating plan Barndoor” said Original? “However, I can see one substantial flaw to your otherwise inspiring scheme.” He pointed towards the locked door.
“Bugger”
“I though that was your plan anyway Barndoor?” said Barry.
“Why don’t we just use a key?” asked Nath.
“Because we don’t have one?” replied Original? sarcastically.
“What about this one I found in Laughing Man’s pocket?
All eyes looked at Nath.
“I know, it’s ‘cos I’m from Stoke.” he said sheepishly.
Barndoor rose from his seat with a new found vigour. “Right you daft slice, get that fucking door open now. It’s time for some arse tenderising... Barndoor style.” he said.
Someone should publish this stuff.
nath_scfc
29-06-2009, 22:08
None of you thought to look though, did you?
:nath:
And so it was that the group piled from the room. Then went back again to get Dundons.
Using Dale as a human shield we progressed through the corridors. Surprisingly there was no resistance, not until we arrived at the office of the now deposed Miggy. Phatmann, who had been standing guard outside, turned and darted through the office door. We followed.
With Dale still held aloft, Barndoor lead the way.
“Welcome gentlemen”, came the voice of Papa from a high backed chair at the rear of the office, currently facing away from us. “So glad you could make it.”
“Okay Papa, what the fuck is going on here?” I asked, angrily.
“I have no time to answer any questions at present. Please, take a seat; this will only take a few minutes.”
Behind us was a row of plastic chairs, akin to the type you’d find in a school. Begrudgingly, we sat.
“I would guess that by now you have some idea of my plans. Dale however is not part of them, so if you haven’t already, you are more than welcome to dispose of him.”
I raised my arm, signalling to Barndoor to delay that offer. At least until later.
Papa continued. “You have all done well and as such I am willing to offer you all a part in my army. You will be fed and clothed, those sentient enough will also receive some payment for their services. If you refuse, then Hunter here will put a bullet in your head.”
Phatmann’s eyes darted nervously towards the chair. On closer inspection it was apparent that Hunter was not in the room. It was even more apparent that Phatmann was only holding a taser.
“Now?” Barndoor asked.
“Now.”
With Dale still firmly in his grasp, Barndoor shot forwards with alarming speed. In a blind panic Phatmann let loose with the taser gun, but only hit the prone Dale square in the genitals. As Dale’s pulsating body hit the floor Barndoor continued his charge, flattening Phatmann’s body against the hard concrete wall. The sickening crunch that accompanied the impact made it quite clear Phatmann was no longer a threat. Turning with all the grace of a pregnant hippo, yet with the speed of a gazelle, Barndoor made for the chair and span it around to face the rest of the group.
It was empty, bar a small MP3 player and speaker. The voice of Papa continued, unabated and most likely, unaware.
“Hunter? Take those that agree to join to the prep chamber. The rest? Kill Them. That is all.”
“I think he’s hiding somewhere else” said TheBishop. Several pairs of eyes rolled in their sockets.
“What should we do with Dale?”
“Leave him here Barry. I think he’s had enough of a shock already today.” I said.
“I assume you intend to release this group of unstable personalities from their secure environment into the general populace then? Said Original?
“What else am I supposed to do?”
“Well, Miggy is still here and is still therefore in charge of this enterprise.”
It was a good point.
“Fine. First though, I suggest we use all available hands to find and hopefully stop Papa”.
Before anyone could move, there was a loud gunshot, followed by Dundon’s gibbering body hitting the floor, a pool of claret liquid oozing slowly from a hole in his chest. “Didn’t see that coming” he groaned.
A second shot grazed past Cookie, taking his small collection of pens from his top pocket. In panic, the now mute artist held up a blank sheet of paper then dove behind a nearby set of drawers. The third shot hit an unflinching Barndoor in the shoulder. He looked at the growing red stain developing, smiled, then charged towards the door.
There was no way Hunter could’ve seen it coming. Barndoor hefted the door from its hinges and beat the gun wielding henchman to the floor. Casting the door aside for a more ‘personal’ approach, Barndoor began to rain punches down on the now prone Hunter. There was no pattern to the attack, just pure malice.
Eventually, the thuds turned to squelches, to splats. A blood soaked Barndoor stood upright and turned to the stunned faces in the room
“Told the cunt he’d regret being born.”
I looked at the rag-tag remains of the group.
“Miggy, you stay here and get onto the authorities. Let them know what’s going on.”
“Why can’t I do that?” said TheBishop, “I’d be no good in a fight, I’m a pacifist”
“Because you’re a mental patient, no-one would believe you.”
“Yeah, and if you don’t come with us, I pass-a-fist at your fucking head” added Barndoor. TheBishop whimpered.
“What are you going to do Doc?” said Miggy.
“We, my friend, are going to put a stop to Papa’s plan, once and for all...”
I was thoroughly confused until I realised I'd missed number 9!
The plot thickens! You'll never thwart my plan.
I don't like the fact that I appear to be physically weak.
but only hit the prone Dale square in the genitals.
:crymore: Ouch!
Turning with all the grace of a pregnant hippo, yet with the speed of a gazelle,
:laugh: :lol: :lol: Brilliant! :laugh:
Good stuff Fick!
So there we stood, the final six, outside the door to Miggy’s office. Somewhere ahead of us was a despotic fiend with ideas of global domination. Behind us, a trail of destruction and corpses.
The brute Barndoor lead the way. His blood soaked torso a warning to any that would stand in our way. Behind him, TheBishop, praying for some kind of redemption. Barry and Original? followed a short distance behind, one no longer looking at the floor and the other almost eerily un-opinionated. Finally there was Cookie and myself. As we stepped through the remains of Hunter, I passed Cookie the pad and pen from my coat pocket. A shaky hand scribed a quick thank you, and then he scurried after the rest. Pausing for a last look back into the office I could see Miggy on the phone, arms waving furiously as he described the situation. I only hoped the powers that be would take him seriously. With a slight slip on the plasma soaked floor, I turned and headed out.
The route out was quiet. No one spoke and there was no one to oppose us. When we finally reached the outer security office we were cordially greeted by a familiar voice.
“What are you doing here?” Said Papa. “Where are Phatmann and hunter?”
“Phatmann is feeling a little flat” laughed Barndoor. Picking a piece of flesh and shattered bone from his shirt, he held it aloft, “and I guess this is Hunters”
Papa drew a revolver from a discreet holder under his jacket. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to take care of you myself”.
TheBishop stepped forwards. “My child, there is no need for violence. We must resolve this in a peaceful manner. I’m sure I can put a good word in for you with the Lord. Your soul can be redeemed.”
A single shot sounded. TheBishop sank to the floor.
“And I didn’t even need to ask for a volunteer to go first!” Papa cackled in the way only an evil despot or mad scientist can.
“C’mon Papa, you surely can’t kill us all?” said Barry.
“If I’d know you’d be here I would’ve brought a water pistol!”
Cookie tugged at my sleeve and pointed at TheBishops body. There was a feint glow and a sign of stirring.
“Fuck you Papa”
“Damn, Original? That wasn’t very eloquent of you now was it? Perhaps this experience has allowed your head out of your arse for five minutes to breathe.” He raised the gun and fired at Original? The bullet never made it to the target.
“What the fuck!” Yelled Papa
“My son” said the resurrected TheBishop, holding in his hand the bullet aimed for Original?. “There really is no need for violence.”
Papa shot him again. “Now stay down you freak!”
All eyes stayed on TheBishop. Sure enough there was the feint glow and stirring. “Ow”, he said as he returned to his feet.
“Oh, fuck this”, said papa, “I’ve put two fucking bullets in your head, there’s no way you can still be alive!” Papa emptied the clip into TheBishop’s body. “Now stay the fuck down!”
This time he did.
Barndoor stepped towards Papa. “Look’s like you’re out of ammo, cunt.”
“Shit” exclaimed Papa.
Barndoor reached forward and wrenched the gun from Papa’s hand. “Won’t need this now”, he said, tossing the gun aside.
The sound of Cookie scribbling furiously on the pad I’d given him interrupted Barndoor’s flow. When finished he held the page aloft. It pictured Papa on a trolley being wheeled away towards an ambulance while cuffed to a policeman.
“Does that mean I’m not supposed to kill the rancid gash?” said Barndoor.
“I think Cookie’s right Barndoor. We should let the authorities handle this one.” I said.
“But, if he’s on a trolley, then surely he must’ve got some nasty injuries?”
“Well, if I didn’t get here until, say, ten minutes after the patients caught up with him, then I guess I wouldn’t be able to stop a decent beating?” I proffered.
“Fuck, yeah!” said Cookie, to everyone’s surprise.
“Marvellous!” said Barndoor gleefully. “You might want to wait in the corridor though eh?”
Mjällharth
01-07-2009, 19:35
Epic. Original?'s moment of arrogance in particular.
Haha Cookie finally spoke!! :laugh:
TheBishop stepped forwards. “My child, there is no need for violence. We must resolve this in a peaceful manner. I’m sure I can put a good word in for you with the Lord. Your soul can be redeemed.”
A single shot sounded. TheBishop sank to the floor.
:laugh:
My plans - thwarted! :crymore:
Sat in a nice quiet office some months later, I took time to reflect on everything that had transpired. It was certainly a whirlwind and one I would hope never to go through again.
Miggy had successfully got the centre up and running again, this time without a despotic second in command. All his staff are now vetted carefully. He also renewed his subscription to Just 17.
Dale was picked up by the police and incarcerated in a high security prison. To this day he still gets a small electric shock every time he urinates. Taking the piss is now the last thing he wants to do.
Original? re-entered the facility as an aide to the staff. His sophist nature somewhat dimmed, he was now able to communicate with people on a normal level and was fulfilling a useful liaison role between the staff and the patients. He now only uses words with more than four syllables if he has no other choice.
TheBishops’ body was removed from the scene and interred in sacred ground. Stories of his double resurrection spread wildly through religious circles for a while. When he failed to coma back a third time, it was put down to luck. He still awaits his martyrdom.
The lowlander, Barry, moved as high up as he could. The last anyone heard, he was living with a remote band of monks high up in the Andes. By all accounts he still has a penchant for cheese, clogs and plugging dykes. Barry is happy. The monks remain nervous.
Cookie vanished for a short time, only to reappear as a suddenly renowned artiste. A lot of his work depicted the events of those fateful days back in the centre. By the time they were displayed they were considered the works of a disturbed genius rather than the mad scribbled musings of an actual disturbed person.
And what I hear you ask of Barndoor? He turned over a new page, despatched his bloodlust and moved to Africa to help the starving and the poor. Okay, maybe not. In reality, he was placed under arrest for the devastating attack on Papa. It took seven heavily armed officers to persuade Barndoor to remove his fist from Papa’s rear passage. Even then he refused to release the lower bowel. He is currently locked away in a very high security prison that makes Guantanamo Bay look like Butlins. He’s happy though.
Papa on the other hand is anything but happy. He’s Barndoor’s cell mate.
And what of me? Despite Miggy’s requests, I choose to no longer work in psychiatric centres, face to face with patients. Instead, I now post on forums like this one, in a hope to help the mentally challenged via the internet.
And that, guys. Is indeed, the end of the session. ;)
:D Fitting end to a great series, well done fick.
Very good Fick, great ending!
Papa :laugh:
Wonderful. Though I'm less than happy with my fate!
How would an admin like to merge these threads so it's all together?
Well I'm glad I died heroically, but lets not rule out the 3rd resurrection yet....
Bammers05
02-07-2009, 12:36
Great stuff, Fick. As Papa said, it would be good if an admin could merge all these threads together, then it would surely be the favourite for Thread of the Year
Phatmann
02-07-2009, 12:47
Merged. Great stuff fick. Did you write it all in one go and what made you think of doing something like this? Very entertaining read.
BarnDoor
02-07-2009, 12:57
Very good fick.
And what I hear you ask of Barndoor? He turned over a new page, despatched his bloodlust and moved to Africa to maim the starving and the poor.
Fixed.
Did you write it all in one go and what made you think of doing something like this? Very entertaining read.
I started with the fist one bit one rather boring afternoon at work, then after the initial positive comments thought I'd better carry on. I hate leaving things half done.
I've always enjoyed writing & over the years have done quite a few short stories. The inspiration for this was the eclectic mix of personalities I've seen on here over the last couple of years. Easy characters to parody, really.
Anyhoo, thanks for all the thanks people, much appreciated. You never know, if things don't pick up at work, there may be another...
I've always enjoyed writing & over the years have done quite a few short stories. The inspiration for this was the eclectic mix of personalities I've seen on here over the last couple of years. Easy characters to parody, really.
So I show the characteristics of a despotic maniac then?
Good to know I suppose.
So I show the characteristics of a despotic maniac then?
Good to know I suppose.
Moderator + Fulham fan...
...can it get more accurate? :ninja:
Just read over this again. Brilliant read.
Anyhoo, thanks for all the thanks people, much appreciated. You never know, if things don't pick up at work, there may be another...
How's work, fick? :ninja:
The Liverpool Way
13-10-2009, 22:13
Helloo
Mjällharth
13-10-2009, 23:03
Why on earth was this post necessary?
How's work, fick? :ninja:
Work's quiet, but I've been busy... bolstering my CV in preparation for what looks like a certain redundancy during 2010 :no:
Why on earth was this post necessary?
It wasn't... side effect of low IQ.
vBulletin® v3.8.2, Copyright ©2000-2013, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.