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By Brian Weilert and David Ralph

Two patients with multiple personality disorder sit in the waiting room of their psychiatrist.

 

Male:  How’s it going?

 

Female: Huh, are you talking to me?

 

Male:  Yes.

 

Female:  Good.

 

Male:  Ummmm……Name’s Randy…..So, you been to Dr. Sybil before?

 

Female:  Yes.

 

Male:  Really? (As if bragging) Five times a week, at least, for me.  

 

Female:  (As if embarrassed by this fact) Me too.

 

Male:  I’m surprised we haven’t met before.

 

Female:  Oh, this isn’t my usual time.  My brother’s father is getting married to my mother, so I had to come early.

 

Male:  Uh…me too...not really (Laugh)  So…what are you in for?

 

Female:  Well….I…uh….I am…(Interrupted)

 

Male:  I killed my mother  (Laughs histarically)…not really.  Scare ya?   Gets ‘em every time.  I actually have multiple personality disorder.  (Joking very dramatic:   Rough voice) No you don’t you liar. (Soft voice)  Yes he does you big bully.  (As self)  Leave me alone, get out of my head.  (Laughing again)…Just kidding, about the over acting thing but the truth is I do indeed house several interesting characters in my head.

 

Female:  Really?   (Soft and shy) Me too.

 

Male:  No way.

 

Female:  (Soft and shy) Way.

 

Male:  So…how many ya got?

 

Female:  Three

 

Male:  No fricking way, me too.  Well, not counting me, with me that’d make four.

 

Female:  Well, then I guess I’d have four also.

 

Male:   So, then am I talking to the real you?

 

Female:  Yes.

 

Male:  How do I know?

 

Female:  Trust me you’d know.

 

Male:  How so?

 

Female:  (Whispers)  I don’t want them to hear…There’s Marge.  She’s a bit…. rough around the collar.

 

Male:  Sounds just like my mother.

 

Female:  (Still whispering) Then there’s Kitty.  She’s…well she’s let’s just say she likes to have a good time.

 

Male:  A perfect match for my Francois.

 

Female:  Your what?

 

Male:  My Francois, he’s a bit of a romantic.

 

Female:  (Still whispering) Oh.  My last one is me….twenty years ago.

 

Male: We really are alike.  I’ve got one of those too.  What are your “triggers” as Dr. Sybil likes to call them?

 

Female:  Well, basic stuff like…(Interrupted)

 

Male:  Mine, are so simple it’s amazing they don’t do something crazy like…KILL MY MOTHER  (Laughing again)  Just kidding.  My are pretty basic too.  One is if someone touches me.

 

Female:  Me too.

 

Male:  Another one is loud noises.

 

Female:  (Amazed they have so much in common) Me too.

 

Male:  And lastly, is the smell of an Algonquin woman.

 

Female:  What?

 

Male:  (Laughing)  Just kidding.  Actually, if someone just mentions a color, any color…Boom! Flash! I’m out of here.

 

Female:  How do you get back to the real you?

 

Male:  It’s kinda weird.  If I am in a situation where I feel very comfortable and safe….I just come back.

 

Female:  You’re not going to believe this, but me too.  I really feel a connection with you. (Reaches over and touches his thigh)  Oh no.

 

Male:  (He transitions to Mother character as he grabs female character’s wrist and shoves her hand off thigh)  You will not be touchin’ my little Randy’s fleshy white virgin thighs with your filthy hussy hands.

 

Female:  (She transitions to Marge when she is touched by him) And just who the hell are you?

 

Male:  My name is…. None of your damn business.  Who’s asking?

 

Female:  Marge. (Looking down at his hands still grabbing her wrist) That’s quite a grip you got there.  You work out?

 

Male:  (Letting go of her wrist and laughing)  No, just house work and raising my little Randy.

 

Female:  Oh, you have a little boy?  (Sarcastic) How cute.  How old is he?

 

Male:  He’s barely 42 (In defense) but he acts much older…You have any kid’s?

 

Female:  Nope, not enough time for a family, gotta work.

 

Male:  What kind of work do you do?

 

Female:  I run a jackhammer for the city.

 

Male:  Oh, you must be tough.

 

Female:  Someone’s got to be, otherwise people will walk all over you; tell you what they think you want to hear and then just leave, taking what they want; leaving you totally…

 

Both:  Alone.

 

Male: I know what you mean, (Whispering) that’s why I never let little Randy out of my sight.

 

Female:  Don’t you think 42 is a touch on the old side to still be mommying the boy?

 

Male:  (Offended and yelling very loud) I’ll mommy my boy as long as I’m still his mommy!

 

Female:  (Transitions to baby as she curls to fetal position and screams) Why are you yelling at me?!

 

Male:  (Transitions to baby) Oh golly, you’re such a big cry-baby head

 

Female:  I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell…What’s that smell?  (Smiling in pleasure) Oh, I made a poopy.

 

Male:  (Sniffing loundly) Gee willakers, that stinks worse than grandma’s mattress.  (Chanting) She pooped her pants!  She pooped her pants!

 

Female:  Shhhh!  Don’t be so loud or I’ll, I’ll… (Trailing off in thought)

 

Male:  You’ll what?

 

Female:  I’ll tell your mommy on you.

 

Male:  (Real fear) No!  Not my mom.  Please don’t tell my mom; I’ll do anything.

 

Female:  Anything?

 

Male:  Yeah, anything.

 

Female:  (Smile) Then go poopy in your pants.