The psychiatrist who does not know what he is doing!

In the great town of London, a psychiatrist sat at his desk. He was awarded several rewards, for disposing of his patients. His first appointment, in this new town, involved, someone who suffered from paranoia.

BANG!BANG! Two people collapsed to the ground. A woman, going by the name of Mrs Dawson, broke through into the psychiatrists office. The woman, looked to be in her early 40s and had a lot of haggard lines on her face. She was a retired cleaner. Who suffered from deep, deep, as I have already mentioned, paranoia.

The psychiatrist sat at his desk, he was dressed formally in a nice tie and shirt, he was a professional, being a professional meant that he had to remember to wear non stained clothes.

Mrs Dawson sat down. Only too see, to her horror, that the psychiatrist was smiling at her and she was sitting down. She pulled out a 9mm handgun, whilst springing up from her seat, as if she was frightened that a tiny bomb could be concealed in side the chairs very wood, and raised the gun to his head.

"Sit down." The psychiatrist ordered her, into which, as if it was going to prove her point, shot several holes in the wooden legs causing it to collapse.

After successfully convincing Mrs Dawson, that he was not a spy that had taken control of the psychiatrist, and that he had no weapons on him, and after jumping on her leather seat repeatedly, he began asking her questions.

Several hours later, everything was out in the open. The only thing left to do, was to cure the patient. The psychiatrist, had one idea on how he was going to do that.

" How would you feel, if your paranoia happened for a good reason like you were in real danger?" He asked her this curiously.

" Is that code for something, trying to get out of me information on where I hang my laundry out, or where my car keys are hidden? YOU WONT FIND OUT!" She screamed ludicrously, whilst making a run for the window, into which the psychiatrist, tapped a button on his chair, causing to secure the windows by encaging them with metal.

"I mean, how about we get your paranoia a good reason too run." The psychiatrist asked her.

"O…Ok. But at the first sign of any reaction, I will blow your head into kingdom Kong. Do you understand?" She asked him menacingly, whilst fingering a rather nasty looking shape.

" Come with me, I have an idea." Several hours later, they were out side. Waiting, at the final moment, a bus whizzed into view. The psychiatrist, after going through some important document with him like her last will and testament, told her to stand in front of the bus.

The sessions went on for several weeks. Now the final test came, he asked her to sit down. He took her by complete surprise. Her hands were handcuffed to the chair as was her head, her neck and her stomach. His hand hovered over the strangely button.

"Brilliant! You didn't try to kill me. You see I am easily distracted, and I…oh what a beautiful little bird." The psychiatrist, was completely oblivious that the only reason, the patient had not blasted his head off. Was the at the time, she was to busy with her back to him shooting some poor old dear across the road for looking at her.

Mrs Dawson, was silently choking away, as he was in control of the strangling button, as tiny bits of her life escaped from her frail, weapon possessed body. Also, the psychiatrist did not realise that the only reason he had caught the old lady by surprise, was because she was shooting at some poor old dear, whose only crime was looking at Mrs Dawson

The psychiatrist, turned to speak to Mrs Dawson, only to find glazed eyes looking at him, and no rapid movement of her chest.

"Secretary. Send the next one in!" Was the only remark he could make, as he released the body, and added it to an already mounted pile down a little shoot. He went out side of the office asking his next patient to stay where he was before he got back. He walked across the road, to the lawyers and handed in the final will and testament of Mrs Danielle Dawson.