Psychobabble Theater
This little piece came to me on a whim. I forgot why and how. Basically, a short excerpt, told in increments, of an obnoxious kid talking to a psychologist, written in the form of a script rather than a narrative to keep things simple.
Dr. Ratched: Mr. Randle McMurphy?
McMurphy: That’s me.
Ratched: I’m Dr. Ratched. I’m your new counselor. Please, sit down.
McMurphy: Sure.
Ratched: So, Randle, do you know why you’re here?
McMurphy: Well, my parents put me out on the curb in front of the building, and by the time I realized, “Hey, this isn’t Chuck E. Cheese,” they’d already driven off into the sunset.
Ratched: I see.
McMurphy: Hey, what’re ya scribblin’ there?
Ratched: Just notes on our discussions. I’ll be writing periodically throughout the session. Don’t be intimidated.
McMurphy: Yeah, well, you know how people get when they see clipboards.
Ratched: How are you feeling, Randle?
McMurphy: Great, actually, despite the circumstances. My parents think I’m a freak, that I’m chronically depressed, and can’t control my anger.
Ratched: They don’t think you’re a freak. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean in the midst of anger.
McMurphy:…they said it in the parking lot.
Ratched: I’m sure it’s been very tense for all of you.
McMurphy: My mom spat at me as they drove away…okay, you’ve gotta stop scribbling.
McMurphy: Before you start asking me questions, I wanna ask you: How must you feel about yourself as a person?
Ratched: What do you mean?
McMurphy: Well, you charge people to sit on a surprisingly uncomfortable couch and tell you a lot of stuff you could just as easily find out on their Myspace profile. Does that bother you at all?
Ratched: Well sometimes, people only say in confidence things they wouldn’t tell anyone else.
McMurphy: Please, people put everything online. Don’t you?
Ratched: I, actually don’t have a Myspace.
McMurphy:…don’t you have any friends?
McMurphy: I just think that it’s kinda twisted that you charge fat chicks to tell them they have no self control. I mean, God, I’ll do that for free.
Ratched: My job is to help them understand their problem and help them work through it.
McMurphy:…give me five bucks.
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: Just oblige me for a second…thanks. Okay, look in that mirror there…Good, now, we both know you’re ugly. Grow enough of a beard, though, and it’ll be a thing of the past. See that? Flat fee, no hourly rate. If I advertise, I could put you on the street.
McMurphy: Wait, you actually charge guys more than girls for this service?
Ratched: In all seriousness, ninety percent of female cases have to do with some type of eating disorder. The men who come in usually constitute more complex problems involving depression, family problems, or concerns with their own sexuality. That’s why you’re here.
McMurphy: Are you trying to tell me I’m gay?
Ratched: I’m just trying to make sure you feel comfortable discussing your personal life with me.
McMurphy: Well, I appreciate that, but as it stands I already have you boning me up the ass financially. I really don’t need to experience the same sensation in my personal life
McMurphy: So basically, it’s a penis tax. Guy comes in, BAM, the meter goes up. Pun intended, if you will.
Ratched: That’s not exactly how we look at it…
McMurphy: Can I see my bill ahead of time? Sorry, I just, uh…ya know, wanna make sure you’re charging me enough, if ya know what I’m talkin’ about.
McMurphy: What’s your stance on eunuchs then? I mean, if you’re really charging me by the hour, I may be inclined to hack the damned thing off.
Ratched: Okay, then why do you think you’re here?
McMurphy: Fine. Here’s what I think. I think you’re full of shit. I think my emotional instabilities are my fault and my responsibility and that you take advantage of idiots like my parents so you can rape patients for profits. I think that your only qualifications are thinking up fancy names to describe a multitude of personality traits and give them a negative spin and that deep down you don’t believe in all of this stuff yourself. And I think you feel the exact same way. And I think that you think that I think all of that and regardless of what I end up thinking or whatever it is you think, you’re still getting paid by the hour.
Ratched: Why would you feel so negatively about this?
McMurphy: I dunno, Doc, you tell me.
Ratched: Well, to my experience biased feelings of negativity reveal a sense of insecurity in the speaker. They’re afraid of being put down themselves, so they put down something else the first chance they get.
McMurphy: Insecure?...well, come to think of it, I guess I don’t have many friends.
Ratched: No?
McMurphy: In fact, I only have two or three people I talk to regularly. I guess it’s kind of my fault no one talks to me. I don’t get invited to a lot of parties. Honestly, I think most kids are jealous of me.
Ratched: Really? Why is that?
McMurphy: Because my penis is enormous.
McMurphy: No seriously, I’ve always been the odd man out. You see what a tall guy I am. At any age, that sets you apart. ‘How’s the atmosphere up there?’ Shrimpy little ass holes.
Ratched: Do you feel that sometimes your parent’s single you out the same way?
McMurphy: Ya know, actually I do! Whenever something goes wrong, it feels like I’m the first one they turn to. Things never just happened. They always got traced to me somehow.
Ratched: Why do you think that is?
McMurphy: *sigh* I guess sometimes I just give my parents a lot of problems. I really don’t mean to, but sometimes my life just goes that way for everything. God, sometimes we even have a hard time with shoes.
Ratched:…shoes?
McMurphy: Oh yeah. I’m a big guy, sometimes they don’t make ‘em in my size. I’ve got some big ass feet. And, uh…ya know what they say about guys with big feet.
Ratched: *sigh* That they have big penises?
McMurphy: No, that they’re totally sane. Yeah, thanks for playing, pervert. Should I really be alone with you in a small room with no windows?
McMurphy: Be honest. You ever put your secretary up on your desk? I won’t tell; confidentiality, right?
McMurphy: What exactly did you learn in college, anyway? How many ways can there possibly be to tell people they’re whackjobs?
McMurphy: ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie. That girl is HOT.
McMurphy: You ever break out your psychobabble on your wife just to win an argument. I gotta say, I’d be tempted. “If you’re willing to hog the blanket at night, dear, how do I know you didn’t just marry me for my money?”
McMurphy: This isn’t a ploy to prove to you I’m straight or anything. I’m totally comfortable with my sexuality. I’m just sayin’…I’d hit dat.
Ratched: No, they’re just notes, you don’t have to read them.
McMurphy: Why not?
Ratched: They’re for my benefit. They’re part of my evalutation.
McMurphy:…it’s a dirty story, isn’t it?
McMurphy: Actually, how many times have you managed to convince a patient that he’s gay? You throw them on your desk too?
Ratched: Why are you being so uncooperative? I’m just trying to help you.
McMurphy: Is that it?
Ratched: Yes.
McMurphy: Really, really?
Ratched: Yes!
McMurphy: Ya wanna know why?
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: You know why I’m acting this way?
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: ‘Cause I’m Rick James, bitch!
Ratched: Okay, time’s up on this session.
McMurphy: So soon? We’ve only scratched the surface!
Ratched: We’ll have other sessions very soon.
McMurphy: But…but…what if the second I walk outside, I kill myself?
Ratched: Randle…
McMurphy: What if talking to me for just five more minutes saves my life? You don’t want that on your head do you?
Ratched: I’ll see you again soon, I promise.
McMurphy: You honestly don’t give a shit do you? The second the clock’s up, it’s over between the two of us, isn’t it.
Ratched: Please, just step outside, we’ll talk again next time.
McMurphy: Fine, fine. Two-timing bitch.
Ratched: *sigh*
…
McMurphy: I was just kidding, by the way. I’m totally small.
Ratched: Randle…
McMurphy: I mean, my extra fee is barely there…
Dr. Ratched: Mr. Randle McMurphy?
McMurphy: That’s me.
Ratched: I’m Dr. Ratched. I’m your new counselor. Please, sit down.
McMurphy: Sure.
Ratched: So, Randle, do you know why you’re here?
McMurphy: Well, my parents put me out on the curb in front of the building, and by the time I realized, “Hey, this isn’t Chuck E. Cheese,” they’d already driven off into the sunset.
Ratched: I see.
McMurphy: Hey, what’re ya scribblin’ there?
Ratched: Just notes on our discussions. I’ll be writing periodically throughout the session. Don’t be intimidated.
McMurphy: Yeah, well, you know how people get when they see clipboards.
Ratched: How are you feeling, Randle?
McMurphy: Great, actually, despite the circumstances. My parents think I’m a freak, that I’m chronically depressed, and can’t control my anger.
Ratched: They don’t think you’re a freak. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean in the midst of anger.
McMurphy:…they said it in the parking lot.
Ratched: I’m sure it’s been very tense for all of you.
McMurphy: My mom spat at me as they drove away…okay, you’ve gotta stop scribbling.
McMurphy: Before you start asking me questions, I wanna ask you: How must you feel about yourself as a person?
Ratched: What do you mean?
McMurphy: Well, you charge people to sit on a surprisingly uncomfortable couch and tell you a lot of stuff you could just as easily find out on their Myspace profile. Does that bother you at all?
Ratched: Well sometimes, people only say in confidence things they wouldn’t tell anyone else.
McMurphy: Please, people put everything online. Don’t you?
Ratched: I, actually don’t have a Myspace.
McMurphy:…don’t you have any friends?
McMurphy: I just think that it’s kinda twisted that you charge fat chicks to tell them they have no self control. I mean, God, I’ll do that for free.
Ratched: My job is to help them understand their problem and help them work through it.
McMurphy:…give me five bucks.
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: Just oblige me for a second…thanks. Okay, look in that mirror there…Good, now, we both know you’re ugly. Grow enough of a beard, though, and it’ll be a thing of the past. See that? Flat fee, no hourly rate. If I advertise, I could put you on the street.
McMurphy: Wait, you actually charge guys more than girls for this service?
Ratched: In all seriousness, ninety percent of female cases have to do with some type of eating disorder. The men who come in usually constitute more complex problems involving depression, family problems, or concerns with their own sexuality. That’s why you’re here.
McMurphy: Are you trying to tell me I’m gay?
Ratched: I’m just trying to make sure you feel comfortable discussing your personal life with me.
McMurphy: Well, I appreciate that, but as it stands I already have you boning me up the ass financially. I really don’t need to experience the same sensation in my personal life
McMurphy: So basically, it’s a penis tax. Guy comes in, BAM, the meter goes up. Pun intended, if you will.
Ratched: That’s not exactly how we look at it…
McMurphy: Can I see my bill ahead of time? Sorry, I just, uh…ya know, wanna make sure you’re charging me enough, if ya know what I’m talkin’ about.
McMurphy: What’s your stance on eunuchs then? I mean, if you’re really charging me by the hour, I may be inclined to hack the damned thing off.
Ratched: Okay, then why do you think you’re here?
McMurphy: Fine. Here’s what I think. I think you’re full of shit. I think my emotional instabilities are my fault and my responsibility and that you take advantage of idiots like my parents so you can rape patients for profits. I think that your only qualifications are thinking up fancy names to describe a multitude of personality traits and give them a negative spin and that deep down you don’t believe in all of this stuff yourself. And I think you feel the exact same way. And I think that you think that I think all of that and regardless of what I end up thinking or whatever it is you think, you’re still getting paid by the hour.
Ratched: Why would you feel so negatively about this?
McMurphy: I dunno, Doc, you tell me.
Ratched: Well, to my experience biased feelings of negativity reveal a sense of insecurity in the speaker. They’re afraid of being put down themselves, so they put down something else the first chance they get.
McMurphy: Insecure?...well, come to think of it, I guess I don’t have many friends.
Ratched: No?
McMurphy: In fact, I only have two or three people I talk to regularly. I guess it’s kind of my fault no one talks to me. I don’t get invited to a lot of parties. Honestly, I think most kids are jealous of me.
Ratched: Really? Why is that?
McMurphy: Because my penis is enormous.
McMurphy: No seriously, I’ve always been the odd man out. You see what a tall guy I am. At any age, that sets you apart. ‘How’s the atmosphere up there?’ Shrimpy little ass holes.
Ratched: Do you feel that sometimes your parent’s single you out the same way?
McMurphy: Ya know, actually I do! Whenever something goes wrong, it feels like I’m the first one they turn to. Things never just happened. They always got traced to me somehow.
Ratched: Why do you think that is?
McMurphy: *sigh* I guess sometimes I just give my parents a lot of problems. I really don’t mean to, but sometimes my life just goes that way for everything. God, sometimes we even have a hard time with shoes.
Ratched:…shoes?
McMurphy: Oh yeah. I’m a big guy, sometimes they don’t make ‘em in my size. I’ve got some big ass feet. And, uh…ya know what they say about guys with big feet.
Ratched: *sigh* That they have big penises?
McMurphy: No, that they’re totally sane. Yeah, thanks for playing, pervert. Should I really be alone with you in a small room with no windows?
McMurphy: Be honest. You ever put your secretary up on your desk? I won’t tell; confidentiality, right?
McMurphy: What exactly did you learn in college, anyway? How many ways can there possibly be to tell people they’re whackjobs?
McMurphy: ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie. That girl is HOT.
McMurphy: You ever break out your psychobabble on your wife just to win an argument. I gotta say, I’d be tempted. “If you’re willing to hog the blanket at night, dear, how do I know you didn’t just marry me for my money?”
McMurphy: This isn’t a ploy to prove to you I’m straight or anything. I’m totally comfortable with my sexuality. I’m just sayin’…I’d hit dat.
Ratched: No, they’re just notes, you don’t have to read them.
McMurphy: Why not?
Ratched: They’re for my benefit. They’re part of my evalutation.
McMurphy:…it’s a dirty story, isn’t it?
McMurphy: Actually, how many times have you managed to convince a patient that he’s gay? You throw them on your desk too?
Ratched: Why are you being so uncooperative? I’m just trying to help you.
McMurphy: Is that it?
Ratched: Yes.
McMurphy: Really, really?
Ratched: Yes!
McMurphy: Ya wanna know why?
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: You know why I’m acting this way?
Ratched: Why?
McMurphy: ‘Cause I’m Rick James, bitch!
Ratched: Okay, time’s up on this session.
McMurphy: So soon? We’ve only scratched the surface!
Ratched: We’ll have other sessions very soon.
McMurphy: But…but…what if the second I walk outside, I kill myself?
Ratched: Randle…
McMurphy: What if talking to me for just five more minutes saves my life? You don’t want that on your head do you?
Ratched: I’ll see you again soon, I promise.
McMurphy: You honestly don’t give a shit do you? The second the clock’s up, it’s over between the two of us, isn’t it.
Ratched: Please, just step outside, we’ll talk again next time.
McMurphy: Fine, fine. Two-timing bitch.
Ratched: *sigh*
…
McMurphy: I was just kidding, by the way. I’m totally small.
Ratched: Randle…
McMurphy: I mean, my extra fee is barely there…