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As a little child, he would spend hours in

  • As a little child, he would spend hours in the woods, picking up rocks to see what squirmed beneath. It was a metaphor for his life now, he realized. He spent his days

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  • prodding at others' tough exteriors to reach at their tender insides. It's what psychiatrists do, he told himself with a nod... especially sadistic ones.

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  • Can you tell your wife and I when you first realized, & don't be afraid,this is therapy, when you first knew you were attracted to your mother?" I glared at him."You're fucking my

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  • grandmother and now you want salacious details of her daughter? You unhinged animal!" I slapped the cigar out of his mouth. "I don't care if you are the father psychotherapy, stop

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  • Freiding around. She's too Jung to be talked about like that. And you can ring your bell all you want, but you won't get a bark out of me. Your name may be Zim Bardo, but

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  • you're not getting me to play "Jailbreak". What's that? You have a pigeon-guided missile you'd like to sell me?

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  • Does it come with a remote control? Or does the pigeon set it off? You should know by now that I need to be able to set things off without touching them. What colour is it?

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  • I replied, "yes...no...no need to touch..and mauve." I flipped the cell off and turned to my partner. "It is getting harder to sell a bomb these days. Those terrorists are so

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  • cheap. And picky. They want everything just so, and they want it at the lowest prices. What are we - Wal-Mart? I can't build them a bomb for less than half a million, and they

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  • keep asking for social discount. Last time they even threatened to kill me if I won't give them a bomb by Thursday. Well, I called their bluff. It is Thursday now and I am still...

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