Pooh:
(looking around the room, uncomfortably)
Therapist:
(sitting down in armchair, smiling soothingly)
No need to be scared.
Pooh:
(disdain)
I’m not scared, I’m just…
Therapist:
(still smiling)
Most people feel scared about their first time visiting a therapist.
Pooh:
(indignation)
Most people probably say that they don’t need a shrink or that they don’t know why they’re there.
Therapist:
(grinning)
Yes. Most of them say that right when they enter. Now… what seems to be the problem?
Pooh:
(frowning)
I hate the world.
Therapist:
You don’t mean that.
Pooh:
Yes, I do. And I especially hate people I can’t control, who won’t do what I want them to. And I really hate people who have to destroy the perfectly happy little universe I’ve created in my mind, populated by people that make me happy.
Therapist:
Whom in particular are you referring to?
Pooh:
(pouting)
Tristan.
Therapist:
You mean Chad.
Pooh:
(confused)
What?
Therapist:
You mean Chad. Tristan is a fictional character.
Pooh:
(shrugging)
Whatever.
Therapist:
(sighing)
Ok, continue.
Pooh:
I just don’t understand why he feels the need to leave GG. I mean, he practically makes the show.
Therapist:
It’s a good career opportunity.
Pooh:
It’s a good career opportunity if he had decided to leave GG to join a new show. Or to do movies. But this?
Therapist:
It’s an established show with a huge following.
Pooh:
GG will be one very soon, too.
Therapist:
It’s his decision.
Pooh:
(upset)
DC is going downhill. Who still watches that show? Ever since Pacey and Joey broke up… he can have that kind of relationship with Rory on GG. I mean.. come on. He has the option of being known for doing great work on a critically acclaimed show like GG, but instead, he’s joining the cast of DC. If he doesn’t want to be typecast or tied down to GG, then he’ll forever be known as a DC guy. Everyone knows that if you’re not one of the main characters, you’re pretty much branded for life. It’s the Beverly Hills 90201 syndrome.
Therapist:
(confused)
The what?
Pooh:
The same six characters... and a revolving door for secondary characters that no one will ever remember. And he’ll be playing a DJ for the school radio station. I mean, come on!!! In a few years, when he makes it big, he’ll always have that on his resume. The freaking David Silver of DC. I mean, how embarrassing. He’s going to wish he listened to me and that he stayed away from that idiotic show.
Therapist:
You’re just upset with DC because you didn’t like the way they screwed up the Pacey/Joey relationship this year and you had weaned yourself off the show.
Pooh:
(angry)
Yes, and now I’m going to be forced to watch it again. Sigh.
Therapist:
Is that it? The big problem?
Pooh:
No, the problem is that he’s a Tristan, not a Charlie. Charlie is the guy from The West Wing. HA is not a Charlie. He’s a Tristan, dammit.
Therapist:
(a little scared, maybe)
Actually, he’s a Chad. I have to keep reminding you that Tristan is just a fictitious character on a TV show.
Pooh:
(ignoring him)
Look, the big thing is that my mind doesn’t work in a DC universe. I’ve got a GG reality in my head, and I kind of like it. If he leaves, then what reason do I have to go back there? Isn’t fantasy supposed to make you feel good, not feel the urge to smush everyone in your own little world.
Therapist:
So what do you think you’ll do?
Pooh:
Put Operation TrifectaLy into effect.
Therapist:
And what’s that?
Pooh:
(determined)
I’m going to get into the car, and drive across the country to pick up Hilda, Meg, Ly, April, Rachie, and anyone else who wouldn’t mind chipping in for gas and… um… peripheral accessories.
Therapist:
That sounds a lot like another name for handcuffs.
Pooh:
Excuse me, but is this my therapy session or yours?
Therapist:
You do know that if you are planning on committing a crime, and you share that information with me, I am obligated to report you to the police.
Pooh:
(upset)
Ok, now why did you have to say that? I’ve seen Grosse Pointe Blank. Why can’t you be like Alan Arkin? Or even Billy Crystal in Analyze This? Now those were some cool therapists. You’re just…
Therapist:
I’m going to prescribe something for you.
Pooh:
(rolling eyes)
I have the urge to smush someone with a fork or something. And I don’t need any drugs. Unless it’s something that has mind-altering effects that will somehow get Tristan to stay on GG and not defect to that crappy show.
Therapist:
You mean Chad. Not Tristan.
Pooh:
(pointedly)
Actually… it’s Hotass.
Therapist:
Um…
Pooh:
And you know, it’s not just that it’s DC. I mean, if DC were filmed in Los Angeles, I’d be fine. But it’s in freaking North Carolina.
Therapist:
Isn’t that good? You live on the east coast, don’t you?
Pooh:
I’d rather he stayed in Los Angeles. He belongs with Rory.
Therapist:
I think this prescription will help… with the visions.
Pooh:
I’m not delusional. I know what I have to do.
Therapist:
And what’s that?
Pooh:
I can’t write anymore. No more fics. I can’t stand looking at them anymore. And I’ve lost all inspiration for new ones. I’m going to finish up with this last one that I’m working on… trying desperately not to make Tristan sound as big of a jackass as dean. And then I’ll post whatever else I may have saved on my computer, and then that’s it. No edits. No rereading. Nothing. Post and then wipe my hands clean of the whole ugly mess.
Therapist:
I don’t…
Pooh:
It’s not impossible. You definitely won’t see me writing fics for DC. Ugh. I can’t do that crap. I like Tristan. I can write Tristan. I can’t write a Charlie.
Therapist:
I didn’t say it was impossible
Pooh:
You don’t think I can do it.
Therapist:
No, I think you can… just that it’ll be hard to stop.
Pooh:
Oh, believe me. I can stop whenever I want to. You’ll see. This one last insanely long one, which I was so freaking excited to start working on... then that’s it. Nothing else. Nothing more.
Therapist:
If you say so.
Pooh:
I can stop whenever I want to. It’ll be better for me. I’ll have more time to concentrate on what I should be doing, and not on what I’d rather be doing.
Therapist:
Well, if you say you can stop, then by all means…
Pooh:
I can. And I’ll show you. I can stop wherever and whenever I want. You’ll see.
Therapist:
I beli------------
Pfffffffft
The end