A therapist receives an unusual victim.
The therapist opens the door, and a man comes in, sits in front of him and answers his question.
“What brings me here will certainly upset you, but it shall be done!”
“Say it once and for all, little guy!”
“Okay, listen up. I’m here to kill you.”
The therapist dissolved into laughter.
“You are already! Oh wait… For real?”
“Well, umm… yeah.”
“But…” He bends over the table, and invites the man to do so as well. “Do tell me, mister. What is, say, the reason then?”
“Look, sir. You have been utterly unpleasant with a lotta people. You hardly ever stop in front of the crosswalk, if ever. You evade your taxes — as you can see, there’s a hell lotta people who wanna ditch ya.”
“Hmm and that is your solution? Murdering me?! Couldn’t you all just think of a better way to solve this — I mean, me? Sorry for sticking my nose in this, pal… but don’t you… think it is going — I don’t know — a little too far?”
“Of course! Violent, sadist, as you prefer — but, please, please understand this is the most appropriate — and actually helpful — way.”
The therapist leans back on his chair and lets out a long, deep sigh.
“You know, it’s funny how things went in today, I had a client claiming, in his clear delusion, having been followed by a police officer who was spying on his most secret vices and guiltiest pleasures — ones like singing in the shower and idle chattering with the neighbourhood.
“Then I had one who tried to stop paying. And by the end of the afternoon I had heard from my wife we’d just been burgled. TV, internet, landline, all gone!”
“I see. Not the best day to pass away…”
“Not really, indeed.”
“And then, sir, why not? Death doesn’t mark an appointment in one’s diary, a time or place — unlike your dearest customers. I must say this to you — you’d do a favour to mankind if you…” The therapist watched the gesture tentatively. “Can you understand this?”
“Right! There’s nothing else keeping me here, then.”
The mister stands up and holds out his hand in front of the therapist. The therapist gazes at it with suspicion.
“My work here’s done, now. The rest is up to you.”
The man left the room and the therapist sat back in his thoughtful chair. He grabbed his glass of water and drank from it, thinking to himself, “That poor chap came here with just the thought of convincing me to off myself. What a fool!” However, he doesn’t hold that thought for long, as he clutches his throat tight, looks astonishingly to the glass he had just placed on the table and falls right upon the ground.