Play therapy, fourth attempt

I'm very sorry I had to reschedule yesterday's appointment, expateek.
I trust Yvette was able to contact you to rebook.

Hey, wait a sec, Dr. Owl.
Isn't your receptionist's name Eugenia?

No, no, expateek. I had to let Eugenia go the other day. She was on an expat contract, so she was much too expensive in these days of global financial disaster. I needed to go with a local laborer. I'm sure you know where I'm coming from. Fortunately, I simply contacted Satan's minions Human Resources, and hey presto! A pretty new secretary. She's French, you know. I'm sure she'll be miles ahead of that incompetent slag silly little tart from Surrey.

Excuse me, Dr. Owl, but that's not very professional to assassinate Eugenia's character, is it? I thought you liked her! She always got really good performance ratings on annual reviews, didn't she?

Oh, expateek, you're such an ethical stick-in-the-mud. What difference does it make? I can do whatever I like, because I'm the boss. Besides, I don't think I'll be taking advice from someone who steals bibles and does homicidal play therapy at her psychiatric appointments. Speaking of which, I think we have some work to do. So enough about me. Let's get started!

You may begin, expateek.

Okay... well...

So le French boss of the bad news has not been able
to go on holiday this week after all.

He has been called in at an industrial site,
because some of the programmable controllers
on the production line
seem to have malfunctioned.
He must go and inspect.

Hmmm. Nothing wrong here.
Let me bend over and look a little closer.

C'est impossible!

I can not see anything from this angle.

Excusez-moi, boys,
could you open up the 12-tonne press manually?

Merci.
I think I shall just slide in underneath
and see if I can figure out what's wrong.
Because I am so intelligent,
I am sure I will fix everything
in just a few moments.

Just don't press that red button.

Hey, what's going on?
I said not to press the red button!
Imbéciles!
Wait! I'm stuck! Mon Dieu!
I can't get ouuuuaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhheeeeee eeeeeeeeee! *splurdge*

Quick, men! Use the hand cranks to pry open the press!
He's being crushed!

Ohhhh, man.

He has been crushed.
What a disaster. He's a goner. Look. His eyes.
They've popped right out!

And all the blood coming out of his skull.
Bleurgh. Disgusting.
What an unfortunate end for such an interesting guy.

Guess someone will have to notify his family. Shame.

......

Is that it, expateek? How do you feel about continuing the story? Perhaps notifying the family and showing how sorry and sad you are to be the bearer of such tragic news?

Are you kidding, Dr. Owl? No way. I'm done for the day.

expateek, I am feeling these stories are a bit repetitive. You send le French boss of the bad news on all these exciting, exotic adventures, and then he ends up dead, every single time. Do you not wish to replay some of these stories, and try out some different, non-fatal endings?

Nope.

expateek!

I mean, No thank you, Dr. Owl.

That's better! Well, I think we will need to see you again. But our time's up for today. Check with Eugenia Yvette on your way out. I'll see you again tomorrow, about 11am.



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