Sunday, November 27, 2005

The Return of Steve the Spider

If know about my encounters with Steve the Spider you do not, read about them here and here, you can.

To the office of Steve Spider, Licensed Therapist, I took Bob the Bantha today. Very helpful in teaching me to get past my fear of spiders, Steve has been. Not quite over it yet, I am. But Steve says "progress we are making", whatever supposed to mean that is.

It turns out, a pet psychiatrist, Steve is too. So I thought maybe help Bob he could. Very neurotic Bob is.

"Say, you didn't bring that Anakin kid again, did you?" Steve asked me when to his office I got.

"No, home he is."

"Good, 'cause I tried talkin to him when you brought him in. Wasn't productive, know what I'm sayin here? He kept sayin, 'Shut up about my mom, yo!' He's got issues, that kid. Very resistant."

"Yes," I said, "aware of that I am."

"I can't help somebody unless they wanna be helped."

"Yes, yes. But a new patient I have for you."

"Oh, yeah. So this is Bob. So whatta we got here?" Steve asked.

"Well, nervous Bob is."

"Yeah? What's he do, chew on your shoes when you're out of the house, or somethin?"

"Actually, shed when away I am, he will."

"Well, that ain't nothing peculiar, know what I'm sayin? Banthas, Wookies, cats, Elvis impersonators, they all shed a little. A little hair on the sofa, a little hair on the carpet. It ain't nothin. Fuhgedaboudit."

"No, but a lot Bob sheds. A lot."

"How much are we talkin, here?"

"Put it this way, let me - the other day when home I came, at first I thought that laid down shag carpet in the Temple parking garage, someone had."

"Ooh. Yeah, that's a lot. I see what you're saying."

"All that is not. Surprise him I can not. Announce myself before coming into the room I must."

"What's he do if you don't announce yourself?"

"Uh, well, control he loses, if what I mean you know. Very messy it can be."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"And like to be ridden, he does not. If a dose of his Prozac I miss, freak out if ride him anyone tries."

"Well, I think we can..."

"Wait! The worst of it that is not! A gas problem he has. Fart whenever a certain word someone says."

"What word?"

"Whisper it to you I will... pickle."

"What?"

"Whisper it again I will... pickle."

"Say again?"

Again I whispered, "pickle."

"I can't hear you."

"'Pickle' I said! Deaf are you?!... Uh-oh."

"WUAAAAAAWWWWWWW!" Phhlllllllllbbbbtttttt!!!!

"*Cough* Can't... breathe... Must *cough* open the *cough* windows..." Steve said as staggering towards the windows he was.

To help him I decided. To get the windows open before passing out we managed.

"Why does he do that?" Steve asked.

"Know I do not. Why I brought him here, that is."

"Ok, well I'll see what I can do... as soon as the room stops spinnin, here."

Close to Bob, Steve came and stroking Bob's head he started. Then a strange sound Bob started making. Very low, very soft it was, "Wuhhhrrrooooooooo."

"Hmm, yes," Steve said, "Tell me more."

"Wuhhhrrrooooooo."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Wuhhhrrroooooo."

For about half an hour this went on. Finally, Steve said, "Well, I know why pick- uh, that word makes him so nervous."

"Why?"

"Nightmares. He's had these nightmares ever since he was a little... whatever the heck little banthas are called. In the nightmare, he's being chased by a giant pick- uh, you-know-what. That's why he gets so scared when he hears that word. It freaks him out, know what I'm sayin?"

"Know this how do you?"

"He told me."

"Told you? Tell you how could he?"

"What? You didn't hear him talkin to me over here? Whatta you, deaf or somethin?"

"Well, cure him of the farting can you?"

"Oh that's gonna take several sessions. Like I gotta find out what the you-know-what in his dreams represents. Could take years."

"Years?!!"

"What I'm more worried about right now is the relationship between yous two guys."

"Nonsense this is! Talking about what are you?!"

"Hey, it ain't nonsense to Bob. He don't feel you take him seriously. He thinks maybe you don't want him around sometimes."

"Silly this is! A bantha Bob is! Told you all of that he could not have!"

"Bob don't like it when you talk about him like he ain't in the room."

"What?!"

"Yoda, you need to show Bob that you acknowledge his feelings. So I want you to tell him, 'Bob, I hear you, and I acknowledge you're right to feel that way.' Go ahead."

"Bob, you I hear and acknowledge... Oh, stupid this is! Say that I will not! Like having Windu for a pet this is, only with hair."

"Well, I can see we gotta lot of work to do here. I want to see yous guys back here next week for our next session."

Great, group therapy with a bantha. Looking forward to that I am.

***********
Checked out my T-shirt store lately have you? Marked down all of the prices in both stores and added a few new products I have!

Comments on "The Return of Steve the Spider"

 

Blogger Noel of Neptonian said ... (4:57 AM) : 

GOOD LUCK with the therapy Yoda.

 

Blogger Private Hudson said ... (8:24 AM) : 

Do you want me to shoot 'im? I got my trusty M41A Pulse Rifle right here.

 

Anonymous jabafatboy said ... (9:19 AM) : 

Got two words for ya, Mcbanta Burgers. The profit margin based on his size would be at least 1000 % . Just dont serve them with Pickle.

 

Anonymous wedge antillies said ... (10:13 AM) : 

Don't feel too bad, Mr. Yoda. My ex-in-laws once paid thousands fo credits for their cat to have therapy. True, it was for a disease, not psycological, but it did show dedication way beyond normal pet care. At least Bob will someday realize that you do love him.

 

Blogger flu said ... (11:03 AM) : 

Does that psychiatrist have a cool speeder, Master Yoda?

 

Blogger JawaJuice said ... (11:42 AM) : 

A Jedi Knight going to a spider to help out a Bantha over a fear of pickles.
Hmmmm...
Lucus is back at the helm, I see.

 

Blogger Bob the Bantha said ... (12:14 PM) : 

...Just dont serve them with Pickle.

...help out a Bantha over a fear of pickles.





WUAAAAAAWWWWWWW! *phllllbbbbbtttt*

 

Blogger Master Yoda said ... (12:18 PM) : 

Good going, JJ and Jabafatboy! Now stunk up my blog, Bob has!

(Start your jokes about how already my blog stinks now you can.)

 

Blogger Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said ... (1:32 PM) : 

Gotta have more fart jokes...

 

Blogger flu said ... (2:30 PM) : 

surely you know if he has a cool speeder or not...

 

Blogger Master Yoda said ... (4:19 PM) : 

A Spyder he has. Happy now are you, Young Starbucker? The bad pun I made!

 

Blogger Jason said ... (4:31 PM) : 

*hands yoda some blog 'Oust!'*

here man, this'll help :-P...hey...I just had an idea, why not have a cybornetic catalytic converter attached onto bobs behind so all the nasty gases are filtered out

 

Blogger Jean-Luc Picard said ... (4:42 PM) : 

Therapy? Sounds like money for someone!

 

Anonymous Jabafatboy said ... (7:52 PM) : 

" Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle "

 

Blogger Bob the Bantha said ... (10:15 PM) : 

WUAAAWWWWWWW!!!! phhlllllbbbbttttt!

 

Blogger flu said ... (10:39 AM) : 

I figured you'd know.

After all, he is taking you for a ride.

 

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