Before the cranial lobotomy, I was deeply

Before the cranial lobotomy, I was deeply depressed--manic. . .to the point of suicide. . .but, thanks to the handy work of Dr. Demented, and the staff at Psycho No More, I am

13 1/2 % normal, which is much better than I was when I entered the asylum. Dr. Demented brought me--a natural born Misanthropist--into the Psycho No More Hospital and fed me to

I would dream of trackless deserts, abandoned ruins, and other worlds completely free of the cloying mental brambles of the human busybodies I so despised. Such cruel dreams, for

someone with such gorgeous ankles. I smiled down at my shapely ankles, stretching them pleasingly. I turned back to my frosty champagne flute and lazily stroked Florian, my

Rhesus monkey. Florian had been such a good boy up until this moment, when he went ballistic for no apparent reason, knocked over my champagne and bit my shapely ankles until they

pimpled with what I chose to call love bites. Oh, how Florian scampered here and there on my body! He was such a good boy! I watched him as he crouched at my spilt champagne.

Come to think of it, Florian has been overly interested in making sure I was drinking champagne. Now I had spilt it and he was watching me in consternation. I felt woozy. B I N G O

screamed Gladys from one of the rickety wooden tables in the back of the cafetorium. The screech zipped through the mind fog that was now enveloping my awareness. Florian, you bad

-ass, take yourself and your mistress, and get out of my sight! You have besmirched my good name and will never be welcome here again." With a sigh, Florian began his journey home.