She adjusted her fins & retracted her 2 unusual

She adjusted her fins & retracted her 2 unusual canine teeth. She blamed her folks, Count Chocula & Lady Gaga. Downing her chocolate milk she slurs,"More." Being a mermaid vampire

therapist is a niche market. As a mermaid vampire therapist I have to hear the story I just mentioned like thousands of times a day. It always ends with the blame game crap.

"Well..." The patient sighed. "She's... not the best mother. She's hit me, Screamed... You're a therapist, right? Do you know why she'd do that?" I scratched my chin. "Well..."

"Has anything traumatizing or cataclysmic happened recently?" The patient looked at me, her eyes deeming gloomy circumstances. "Nothing except the day when I killed the dog."

I stood, outraged. "I will NOT have a dog MURDERER lying on my therapeutic couch!" I yelled. The patient jumped up and slammed my framed Psychiatring Certificate over my head. Glas

s exploded in a halo of sharp fragments around my head and I felt the room around me begin to swim, as though I was drunk on a fairground ride. Leering at me, he said, "Well Dr,

Farragut, I count 2,954,362 projectiles. How many do you see?"

"I see twice as many Guns!" They ducked and covered, as a Nuclear Missle shot up into Space, and returned fire on the Enemy. A Court opened fire again, and the Missle Riffle cri

-tters scattered in unholy terror. It baffled one how rattled they could be by riffles. Riffles were not Ruffles, and did not taste good with dip. Don't ask them how they know.