fick
Registered User
PesGaming Group Therapy – Session 3
“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.
“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.
