We Way? Three Way!

“But Frank! I’m lonely...” I said. My guitar lesson had been canceled.

“I’m here...” He said quietly.

“But I want to make fun of the psychiatrist!” I whined to him. He sighed, grabbing his keys.

“Okay... but I get to make fun of him slash her too, right?”

“You thought you wouldn’t?” I responded. He smiled and ran towards the car.

“Come on! I want to get there before they leave!” He yelled.

After earning himself a speeding ticket for going thirty miles an hour over the speed limit, Frank finally managed to find the place.

“I’m here! Who’s the psychology dude?” I said, bursting through a random door. I just happened to choose the right one.

“That would be me. Might I ask if you’re one of our patients?” A guy in a grey sweater said.

“Nah, I’m their un-related sister. So, what are you guys talking about?” I answered him, sitting on Frank’s lap in the only available chair left.

“Well, I was explaining to your sister Rebecca--”

“Becca’s Becca.” Becca corrected him.

“...Your sister Becca about how Cupcake isn’t really talking to her, but he’s in her head and manifesting himself in a unicorn.” Mr. Psychodude said.

“... So Becca’s a schizo?”

“Not exactly. Might I ask how old you are?”

“Mentally? I’m about four and a half.”

“No, physically. How many years ago were you born. In human years.”

“Exactly fourteen years, nine point two months, eighteen hours, and forty seven minutes.”

“Shall I assume the man you’re sitting on is your boyfriend?”

“Yes you shall.”

“How old is he? Again, physical age in human years.”

“I’m Twenty two.” Frank answered him.

“I’m afraid your relationship is illegal. You should probably end it before the American legal system needs to get involved. Oh, and sir, if you continue having thoughts about dating young girls, I suggest you give me a visit.”

“It’s only illegal if we had sex, and even if we did, then it would still be legal in Georgia, duh.” Frank said. Dr. Know-it-all shook his head and sighed. I gave him the finger and kissed Frank on the cheek. At that point he was seriously pissed off at us.

“So, Becca, as I was saying. The voice of this clearly stuffed unicorn is simply in your own mind. It’s projecting itself through this toy. I suggest some medication for schizophrenia.

“HONEYDEW!” Becca screamed. Ray came running in.

“What happened now?”

“Mr. Psychologist said I’m schizophrenic, and then something about Cupcake being a voice in my head. Is Becca crazy?” Becca told him. Ray looked at the psychologist like he had three heads, one of which was trying to bite off the other one.

“I think we’re done here...” Ray said, leading us all towards the exit. He sighed. “Psychiatrists... they should probably be the ones in the mental hospitals....”