Psychology for Dummies
by Prof. Samwise Oak

Here's a nice bit of work from the insane Professor.  Tell me what you think, or 
else I won't know if anyone's read it, and then I'll come over all depressed, 
and so on and so forth, until I can join the characters in this fic...

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon... *yet*... <cue sinister music>
Claimer: I *do*, however, own every bizarre perversion of the Pokemon universe 
featured in this fic.

Albert Psychman gazed forlornly at his hypnotic pendant for a second, then laid 
it down on his desk.  The middle-aged Hypno psychologist took a sip from the 
coffee mug on his desk.  Then, realising that he was alone in his office, he 
greedily seized the pitcher of coffee and drank the whole thing without pausing 
to breathe.
"Ah... sweet caffeine, what would I do without you?"  He tapped the intercom 
button with a bright yellow finger.  "Next."
"Okey-dokey, doc!  Wheehee!" Lettie, the Chansey receptionist of the Psychman 
clinic, was technically a patient under his care.  She had been declared insane 
by fourteen other psychologists, but Doctor Psychman held great respect for her 
filing abilities.  She was chained to her desk during work hours, and had a pair 
of headphones on her head at all times, playing a recorded message so she didn't 
get so wrapped up in filing that she forgot to breathe.  Still, Lettie was one 
of the nicest Pokemon Psychman had ever met - in her own clinically insane way.

The next patient walked into the office - a Dodrio.
"Oh dear...  Sit down," he gestured at the variety of ergonomic couches designed 
for every Pokemon that might conceivably come through.  "Now, what's your 
problem?" Like he couldn't already guess.  The left head (which represented 
Sorrow) wiped a tear from its eye by bending down a feather from its scalp.  You 
had to think creatively without arms.
"We -"
"Shaddup!" shouted the middle head, the one that represented Anger (there's a 
shock).
"There's no need to be so angry," said the right head (Joy) in a sing-song 
voice.  "We can all live together happily..."
"And you too!  Stick yer beak where the sun don't shine!"  Albert wasn't going 
to tolerate *that* in his office.  He reached out with a Confusion attack to 
simulate the effect of a punch in the face for the middle head.
"Ow!" cried all three heads in chorus - Dodrio heads feel each other's pain, so 
fighting amongst them tends to cause severe migraines, even for the winner.
"Now that I have your attention," said the psychologist frostily, "I've guessed 
that your problem is that you can't live together, but are stuck together by 
virtue of being part of the same Pokemon, correct?"
"Yes - sniff - I want to sue for divorce," sobbed the left head.
"There, there..." comforted the right head.  Albert rolled his eyes.  Dodrio.  
Well, it could be worse.  They were notoriously difficult during puberty, when 
they evolved and got the third head.  He did have a very nasty patient once, a 
Dodrio whose Sorrow head threatened to commit suicide (thereby killing all 
three) just to be rid of the other two.
"Look, what exactly will you do if you sue for divorce, hmm?  You're all part of 
the same mixed-up bird-thingy; live with it."
"Live with these two jerks whining all the time?  I don't think so!"
"Ugh..." Albert grabbed his pendant and used Hypnosis on the Anger head, which 
fell asleep.  "Much better.  Now, you two.  You seem to get along fine...?"
"Not always," said the Joy head, "But most of the time."
"Sniff - you just don't appreciate the *melancholy* of it all..." wailed the 
Sorrow head.
"Hmm.  I suggest some of Lettie's tea for you; that'll perk you up.  As for that 
uncouth moron in the middle... tell him to keep a dream journal.  You'd be 
surprised how often that works when your psychologist can manipulate dreams."  
He reached out across the Somnian Plane to touch the mind of the sleeping head, 
rooted out the thoughts of psychopathic destruction, and replaced them with some 
borrowed thoughts from the Joy head.  "There.  It won't effect a complete 
personality change, but he'll stop bitching so much.  You can pick up the recipe 
for Lettie's tea at the front desk.  Off you go."

As soon as the Dodrio was gone, Lettie sent in another patient.  This one was a 
Vileplume with droopy petals that had a purplish tinge.
"Now, what's your problem?"
"Like, whoa, dude!  Peace out!" said the Vileplume, settling onto a pedestal-
shaped chair.
"I... see.  Your problem is that you're stoned?"
"Yeah, man.  There's, like, loads of colours... the colours!  The colours!"
"And why are you stoned?"
"It's, like, radical, man!  There's this, like, Skiploom down on the corner who, 
like, sells his leaves to smoke."
"Are you aware that it's illegal for Grass Pokemon to sell pieces of themselves 
as recreational drugs?"
"Like, no way, man.  That's not cool."
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Albert asked, slapping his own forehead.
"Way.  Peace out."
"I'm sure.  What exactly is your problem?  If you don't enjoy being stoned, you 
can just stop smoking Skiploom leaves."  He made a mental note to inform the 
police about that.
"Nah, like, it's way cool, but when I'm high, I, like, always crash my car and 
stuff."
"Yes, that's a normal part of the process... I think."
"So, I want you to fix it so I can be high without, like, doing stupid stuff."
"Er... The stupid stuff is the whole point.  If you didn't do stupid stuff, you 
wouldn't even notice a difference."
"Oh... Well, can I have the recipe for that tea, then?"  Albert ushered the 
Vileplume out and directed him to speak to the insane receptionist.  Then he 
rummaged in a desk drawer for his contract and found the confidentiality clause.
"Hmm... if I tell the police, I'm in breach of contract.  Let's see..." he found 
a bottle of white-out and a pencil.  "A few strategic alterations here, and 
here, and here..." No one would notice.  At least, not if they had a mere 
sprinkling of mind control on them.

"Send in the next one, please."  A few moments later... "I said, next patient, 
please."
"I'm here," said a voice, "I just need to check for bugs."  A Wobuffet appeared 
from hiding behind a pot plant.  "You never know when they might be 
listening..."
"They?  Who's 'they'?"
"Shh!"  The Wobuffet threw out a Foresight attack, then relaxed.  "They haven't 
bugged your office.  Yet."
"I see.  Paranoia, is it?"
"Oh no, I'm not paranoid.  It's just that everyone's out to get me!"
"If you aren't paranoid -" fat chance, he thought, "Then why are you here?"
"I need the advice..." the Wobuffet narrowed his eyes and looked around the 
room, "Of a guru of the mind.  I must learn to shield myself from their 
attentions."
"And who are they, exactly?"
"They are them - FedEx!"  Definitely paranoia.
"FedEx?  The delivery company?" Albert surreptitiously took out his notebook.  
You always had to listen to the paranoid ones: you never knew when they might be 
right.
"Yes, they're plotting to take over the world!"
"How so?"
"They plan to open a gate to a parallel universe where creatures called 'humans' 
keep Pokemon in small devices called 'Pokeballs' and use them to battle!"
"Uh... huh." Insane.  "So, why would FedEx do this?"
"I've said too much..."
"Yes, you have." He reached for the Patient Capture button under his desk and 
pressed it.  A straightjacket sprung up from the floor and entangled the 
Wobuffet.  It struggled, even throwing out a Counter attack, but its efforts 
proved useless.
"You're one of them!  You work for FedEx!"
"No, not FedEx."  He couldn't resist.  He leaned towards the Wobuffet, 
whispering in a conspiratorial tone.  "The Reserve Bank of Kentucky."

After sending the Wobuffet into even greater heights of paranoia, Albert decided 
to call it a day.
"Lettie?  Do I have any more appointments?"
"Nonononono!  Wheehee!"
"Yes.  Quite." He got up and left his office, locking the door behind him.  In 
the waiting room, he walked around the desk to unlock Lettie's handcuffs.  "Have 
a nice evening."
"Ooookeydoky, Doc!"  She bounced over her desk and through the closed window.  
"Oopsie, I'll pay for that.  Ow, that hurt... Softboiled!" Lettie healed herself 
with the signature attack of her species, then bounced down the street towards 
her apartment.  Albert shook his head, shut up the filing cabinets and turned 
off the light.

The FedEx Smeargle tapped buttons on his control panel and called up an image on 
his monitor.  A pair of tall creatures with pale skin and very little hair 
appeared on the screen.  One, a female, had long golden hair.  The male had 
short blue-green hair.  Both wore black clothes with red letter R's on the 
shirts.
"How is the operation going?" asked the man in a gravely voice.
"We're almost ready," said the Smeargle.  "You'll have your portal soon enough."
"Just make sure no one suspects," said the woman.  "We don't want any mistakes."
"Sure... no mistakes."
"If you screw this up, we will find a way to get back at you... all of you..." 
she said.  "You're no match for us."
"Of course.  I'll tell my superiors."

So, there you go.  It seems somewhat pointless, but what the hey.  I'm still 
breaking myself in as far as Pokemon fan fics go.
What did you think?  Would you like to see a sequel?  Comments would be nice, 
but I appreciate *constructive* criticism.  If you flame me, I will get you.
E-mail at budgiehayward@hotmail.com