“I’m afraid he’s not well.” sighed Dr. Drillateral Eisenger PhD. “He’s suffering from a delusional disorder in which he believes that he is actually having conversing with this mop of his.”
Mz. Sweeny narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer to Dr. Drillateral.
“How do you mean conversing?”
“I mean,” said Dr. Drillateral clearing his throat “that Harry believes that the mop can vocalize.”
Mz. Sweeny smiled that vacant smile of hers and blinked exactly twice, Dr. Drillateral counted.
“What exactly do you mean vocalize?”
Dr. Drillateral was a patient man, so he understood that the lack of clarity in this situation was due to Mz. Sweeny’s stupidity. He proceeded, out of sympathy for her lack of intellect, to entertain her moronic queries. Dr. Drillateral stared directly at Mz. Sweeny’s sagging breasts, which were climbing out of the lavender low cut blouse that she was wearing and said:
“I mean that he thinks the mop can talk, just like you and I are talking right now.”
“Well good lord! That’s not possible!” Said Mz. Sweeny in disbelief.
“Yes, Mz. Sweeny. I know that, and you know that, but he…”
“Doesn’t know that?” She asked incredulously.
“Exactly!” Dr. Drillateral beamed. He had an overwhelming urge to sleep with her as a reward for getting the punchline. But he quickly repressed this urge as Mz. Sweeny brushed aside a strand of her hair.
“Well what are we going to do?” Mz. Sweeny moaned.
“Well, ” Dr. Drillateral said calmly “He needs help. he might need to be put on some sort of medication.
“No no! I don’t care about that!” Mz. Sweeny exploded. “I mean, how is it going to look if the Rutherford Bacon Elementary School janitor is institutionalized?! No one will ever want to send their children here again.”
Mz. Sweeny took a deep breath and realized that she had just lashed out at Dr. Drillateral, who was staring wide-eyed at her. The notion of sleeping with Mz. Sweeny has packed up and gone on an unpleasant trip to Antarctica. He was left all by his lonesome staring at this idiotic creature in disgust.
“We can’t let him go! He stays here for the good of the community, the welfare of the little ones. Plus, we can’t have this awful news spreading around town. Doctor, what do you suggest we do?”
Dr. Drillateral signed for what seemed to him like the 20th time and said:
“I’m going to be honest with you, at the very least he needs counseling.”
“What exactly do you mean by counseling?”Asked Mz. Sweeny in all sincerity.
Here we go again, thought Drillateral. His patience was waning.
“Therapy! He needs therapy!” He exploded.
As soon as he blurted out those words, he knew what question was coming next.
This is part five of my short story, A Taste of Wool. I will be posting a new part each Wednesday as a part of Wool Wednesdays! To read part 4 click here.