Therapist: “Mr. Lupine, I’d like to discuss with you your friendship with Ms. Alice Evans.”
Lupenis: “Oh, sure. I mean, it’s not really a ‘friendship,’ per se, but yes, of course.”
Therapist: “How would you classify it, then?”
Lupenis: “It’s more of a profound interpersonal connection set ablaze by the undeserved turmoil of a decaying marriage.”
Therapist: “…huh. And where do you place her in this ‘profound interpersonal connection’?”
Lupenis: “My lap—uh, I mean my heart—no, no! I mean at the very top of a tumultuous situation from which she will surely emerge the victor.”
Therapist: “Well, Mr. Lupine, I’ve done some research on the case and it seems as though Alice has been the one of the two parties perpetuating abuse.”
Lupenis: “Ha! No, no, no, doctor, I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding the situation. You see, Alice has been repeatedly gagged, punished, denied the funding for food and basic necessities, harassed, and goaded by her ex-partner and his new woman.”
Therapist: “I’m afraid I’m not seeing that right now.”
Lupenis: “I certainly am.”
Therapist: “…You…you are currently sitting here with your eyes closed, Mr. Lupine.”
Lupenis: “Well…anyway, the truth will come out. I’ve learned the truth. She’s told me all about it. She messages me privately, you know.”
Therapist: “That’s, uh, nice. You seem proud of this.”
Lupenis: “Oh, I’m surely proud—proud of HER for CONFIDING in me! She has so many challenges in her life as a single mother with no child support, barely a roof over her head, a swamp-pool, a series of illnesses that leave her bed-bound, a waning wine and pill supply, dwindling savings, and an active eBay account. If talking to me brings her peace then I will gladly be her soulmate—”
Therapist: “I’m sorry, her what?”
Lupenis: “I meant confidante.”
Therapist: “Those are two separate words, sir.”
Lupenis: “So are these: FREE ALICE! She’s such a strong woman, doctor—all this ruthless terror occurring and she can STILL recite the alphabet backwards.”
Therapist: “I’m a bit concerned that your friendship with Alice has become an obsession driven by long nights spent collecting baby-head-keychained handbags and writing Vampire Diaries fan fiction in your parents’ basement.”
Lupenis: “WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THE FAN FICTION?! You don’t know that!!! Nor do you know about the closet shrine molded from shredded court documents and salad cream!!!”
Therapist: “…As I said, Mr. Lupine, this seems to be an obsession you have with Ms. Evans.”
Lupenis: “I take offense to that, doctor. Really. Apparently it’s a class A felony to empower a beaten-down woman with huge titties.”
Therapist: “I’m sorry, sir???”
Lupenis: “Agh! I mean who is hugely pretty.”
Therapist: “Mr. Lupine…”
Lupenis: “No, no! I meant, who is truly witty. Yes, witty. GOD, those wits. I would honk them like a truck horn tearing across eight lanes on a highway…”
Therapist: “Mr. Lupine, this is all very concerning, as you have shown me.”
Lupenis: “God, how I wish there’ll be more Alice will show me…”
Therapist: “Pardon?”
Lupenis: “Gah! I mean, you know, court docs and legal shite and a profession of love—NO, confessions of—DAMN IT, NO! I mean expressions of—ah, duck.”
Therapist: “*sigh* You know, I think that just about wraps up this week’s session, Mr. Lupine. I’m glad you came.”
Lupenis: “Oh, no, actually I already did that last night when Alice DM’ed me.”
Look who’s back. 
