Step right up folks and get yer tickets here for the latest greatest craze sweeping the nation.
Welcome to the new gameshow called Label the M.H.Pees! Why should the mental hell professionals have all of the fun? Yessiree Bob and Betty, presenting your host for the evening Ima Freek.
Ima Freek: It's gonna be a really good show, yes indeed. Behind the curtains are the exhibits. Presenting Exhibit number one!
Note the snooty upturned nose, the rosebud lips. The marriage finger dripping with diamonds. The perfect teeth
dripping with venom. The keys to her snobby Saab laying on her desk.
Terrorpiss claims she understands queer culture. That is a blatant lie folks. Being a Rocky Horror Picture
Show groupie in her youth does not render her an expert on our delicious patchwork community.
Behind her stands her mentor He's Gottit All. She has been known to oogle him with her devouring eyes in front of "her"
"clients." She parrots him at every opportunity and uses him to boost up her false ego and flailing self-esteem.
Terrorpiss does not "believe" in dissociation outside of the label "borderline." Oh no. She wouldn't recognize
an alter if the alter smacked her smug little face. As further evidence of her dysfunctional e-glow, she has claimed that
"The book has not been written on" what she knows about the label "borderline." And she has also claimed that she has
"fixed" a previously "borderline" patient within the space of a single year! Borderline no more!
Like many tees, she has labeled the unsuspecting customer as "borderline" because they had the audacity to disagree with
her oh so very clinical assessments, ideas, and opinions. Oh dear, oh dear.
Terrorpiss is not currently working as a terrorpiss. Instead, she spends her days editing a center newsletter for
He's Gottit All and her evenings cranking out stained glass window art.
Ladies and Gentlemen, please find your voting cards underneath your seats and vote. Her label will be revealed after a few
words from our sponsor.
Announcer Cut: Here we have the brand spanking new indispensable label-maker! Close your eyes, open the book at random, and run your finger
down the page until the little voices tells you to stop. And presto-jingo, you have a brand new label for your patient!
Brought to you by the shrinks who voted on all of the labels in Da Systemic Machination 7.5.
Ima Freek: Ladies and Gentlemen, the results are in! Drum roll, please!
[Four zootsuits enter stage left, rolling a large drum. One fishes out a key and leads terrorpiss out of cage. Terrorpiss is shouting but she cannot be heard.
Ima Freek: Silence please! Terrorpiss, here are YOUR labels! Borderline Personality Disorder.
Narcissistic Disorder. Histrionic Disorder. Dissociative Identity Disorder not otherwise specified
with dissociative features and depersonalization. Zoots, take her away to the re-education center!
Terrorpiss number one: No! You can't do this to me! Nooooooooooo!
Ima Freek: Audience, please sing along with me! Du. Du. Du. Another one bites the dust!
Du. Du. Du. Another one bites the dust!
[And the audience begins to sing.]
Ima Freek: Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen. That was indeed rousing. And now, without further ado, I
present to you Exhibits number two and three!
Yes indeed, these two are quite the pair.
Exhibit number two is actually the doppleganger of a terrorshrink.
See the terrorshrink beat his head against the cage bars in rage.
Ah, he doesn't quite come off as a teddy bear now, does he?
Terrorshrink raped several of his patients.
He got away with it. The Medical Misconduct is Okay Board convicted him of poor record-keeping.
Seems he didn't keep adequate records of the goings on in his office.
Behind him lurk all of his co-workers, guilty by their silence.
Piteous. Piteous.
Exhibit number three is a surprise appearance by the infamous Cold Slut!
The Cold Slut was the terrorshrink's co-worker and fuckbuddy.
It is rumoured that she liked him to give her bubblebaths!
[Audience gasps in one collective gasp of horror.]
The Cold Slut has been described as a self-made woman.
Notice the nails filed into crafty points. See the vague resemblance to an actual humyn being.
Smell the cesspool of her inner being. The stench threatens to overcome.
If any of you feel faint, please raise your hand and the zoots will furnish you with oxygen.
[Zoots run around frantically, giving out masks and individual oxygen tanks].
Ima Freek: Ladies and Gentlemen! Once again please find your voting cards under your seats.
Labels for both the terrorshrink and the Cold Slut will be announced after these words from our
sponsor.
Announcer Cut: Are you a terrorpiss or terrorshrink? Are you afraid that your patients are contagious? Have
you forgotten how to be a human being? Cracking under the pressure? Terrified that you
will be found out as a fraud? Take a vacation! Come stay with us at the Re-Education Center.
At the Re-Education Center, you will be wrapped up in strait jackets, given mind-numbing
drugs, and exposed to meaningless drivel in both individual and group terrorpee.
Not covered by any decent insurance company.
Ima Freek: Welcome back Ladies and Gentlemen. And now without further ado, the hanging of labels about
the necks of these dastardly foes will take place.
[Four zootsuits enter stage left with large signs attached to chains. They swarm into the cages and bolt the
signs to the heads of the Doppleganger of the terrorshrink and to the Cold Slut. The audience cheers as both
dangerous beings are thrown onto hospital beds and held with five point restraints. The zootsuits exit after
carefully locking the doors of exhibits two and three behind them.]
Ima Freek: May I have your attention please? Now for the revealing of the labels.
Cold Slut, the race was close, very close. Here are your labels! Dependent personality disorder.
Bipolar Disorder with Psychotic Delusions of Grandeur. Both of your labels carry a special
footnote. And the footnote reads-- Poor prognosis!
[Audience begins to chant: Liar. Liar. Liar. Cold Slut begins to cry.]
Ima Freek: Cold Slut, it is too late for your crocodile tears. You should have thought about what your lies
would do to the former victims of the terrorshrink. But you didn't. You were determined to save
him from the consequences of his actions. Enough of you!
[Large hooks from the ceiling descend and hover over the cage holding the Cold Slut. Ima Freek claps her
hands and the hooks clink as they connect with the bars on top of the cage. The cage is lifted and disappears
into a hole in the ceiling.]
Ima Freek: A specially equipped helicopter is waiting to take the Cold Slut away.
[Audience begins singing "They're coming to take you away haha. They're coming to take you away hoho.
A bell buzzes.]
Ima Freek: And that is the Gong, audience. We are almost out of time. We have one more label.
It is a very weighy label for a dead man. What you did to your patients was sooo wrong.
Terrorshrink, your sign says psychopath!
[The cage sinks into the floor and disappears. The audience breaks out into sheer joy. There is dancing in the aisles.]
Ima Freek: Ladies and Gentlemen, don't forget these things! We are more than our labels. We are bigger
than our problems! We are who we are! The Never-A-Mother-Incompetent folks run shrieking
from our presence in horror. Terror piss-es itself when we empower our selves and our lives.
Never forget that Terror shrinks from thee. Feel you all next week at the greatest gameshow on
earth-- Label the M.H. Pees.
Announcer Cut: Brought to you by the rage of ten thousand liberated psychiatric survivors and sapphoq.
[Audience continues their liberation celebration. Fade to black.]
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