Part 1 Part 2
Title: All You Need to Have a Lunatic Asylum... 1/?
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Xena Mary Sue
Pairing:
Status: Finished
Series/Sequel: Loosely tied to my other Mary Sues
Summary: A certain fanfiction writer has finally been deposited in the laughing acadamy. Certain people are amused, and not amused.
Archive: Yes
Feedback: Yes. On list, or to poet77665@catlover.com
Disclaimer: I did not create and do not own any readily recognizable media characters. I have no agreement, legal or otherwise, with the creators or
owners. This is purely for entertainment--I have not made, do not seek, and will not accept any profit for it. This story is in no way meant to
reflect on the lives or life styles of the actors/actresses who originally portrayed the characters. I have nothing but fond affection and respect for
them, for giving me so much entertainment, and no disrespect is meant by anything herein.
Rating: Teen
Warnings:
Notes: The quote is from My Man Godfrey--"All you need to have a lunatic asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people."
Personal Websites: http://www.scribescribbles.com and http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver (which can be reached through the previous site).
All You Need to Have a Lunatic Asylum... 1/?
by Scribe
(The scene is a doctor's office in a lunatic asy-- mental health facility) (Dr. Krankenstrain is sitting behind his desk, consulting a folder) (A nurse
knocks on the door, then enters)
Nurse: "Doctor, your new patient will be ready for her first consultation in a few minutes."
Doctor: "Ah, yes. That would be..." (He consults folder) (frowns) (sternly) "Nurse, someone is courting a malpractice suit. Who filled in this
personal information form?"
Nurse: "That would be her. I tried to do it for her when she made an origami crane out of the first one and a paper airplane out of the second one,
then I gave up and let her do it."
Doctor: "Why is her name listed as Scribe S. Scribe? Were her parents some sort of hippies?"
Nurse: "No--a Southern Baptist church lady and a good ol' boy redneck."
Doctor: "Eesh. I could have understood something like Lurleen, or Shawndee. No wonder she's in for therapy."
Nurse: "I don't think those are her LEGAL names, but when I tried to get the information from her mother, she told me to kiss off if I wasn't going to
let her baby out of the nut bin, and we could expect to hear from her lawyer. Who's Walter Humphries?"
Doctor: (swallows hard) "I'm just going to hope that delusions run in the family. But that means that her family didn't commit her?"
Nurse: "No, no. The way I understand it is that there was some sort of incident with her neighbors. Apparently one of their chickens exploded after
it pecked her. When they confronted her she disavowed responsibility."
Doctor: "Not unusual."
Nurse: "She claimed that it was done by the ancient Greek god of Mischief." (Doctor blinks) "Then the constable sent out to investigate vehemently
questioned her veracity."
Doctor: "Um..."
Nurse: "He called her a liar."
Doctor: "And she attacked him?"
Nurse: "No. He was immediately stung by a bee, tripped and fell in a pile of manure--and the funny thing is that there's no evidence of a horse or
cow withing a mile of the place--was attacted by her cat--and it's a good thing that he'd been declawed, because it was like he was trying to bury
something right above that guy's kidneys... He got grass burns on his palms when he tried to get up, then had an allergic reaction to the wetnaps
he'd kept in his car and used for the last month. He pinched his fingers putting the handcuffs on her, whacked his own head when he tried to put
her in the back seat, and had the security grill fall on his head when he sat at the wheel. That was right before his horn, siren, flashers, strobe
lights, and windshield wipers all turned on and got stuck. From what I hear the mechanics say that for some reason or other they're not going to be
able to get them to stop till the battery runs down. He had four flat tires on the way to the lock up, and his seat belt stuck, forcing them to cut
him out--right before the doors fell off the car."
Doctor: (gaping) "And he blames this specatacular run of bad luck on her?"
Nurse: "She was laughing like a loon. Pardon the term."
Doctor: "Insensitive, but not unnatural."
Nurse: "And she was calling out suggestions that subsequently happened. He doesn't believe that she's solely responsible, though. He's bought into
the whole 'Strife did it' thing."
Doctor: "Strife?"
Nurse: "Greek god of Mischief. You've never watched Xena: Warrior Princes, have you?"
Doctor: "Is that the one with the woman who wears leather and throws a round boomerang? So she not only has delusions of mythological beings,
but it's cross-polinated with a pop-camp television show? Now that must be unique."
Nurse: "You'd be surprised."
Doctor: "Perhaps the constable should..."
Nurse: "He's in the Paranoid Wing. You'll be seeing him sometime tomorrow. Look, can you go ahead and see her? You heard about that fire alarm
that went off right before you came on duty?"
Doctor: "It wasn't a false alarm?"
Nurse: "She was wandering around the lounge during 'group', and the group leader snapped at her. The coffee urn caught on fire, then a water main
burst and put it out.
Doctor: "Surely you don't think that she had anything to do with it?"
Nurse: "The the air conditioning unit went nuts--pardon the term--and froze the water. She wrapped herself up in an unbuckled straight jacket,
grabbed a plate of cookies, and started ice skating. It looked like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon. Can I send her in? I have a suspicion that if she
gets bored I might find toads and snakes in my desk drawers."
Doctor: "Sure."
Nurse: (opens the door) "Come in, please, if you don't mind, Miss Scribe."
Doctor: "I'm looking forward to this."
(Curly haired woman in sloppy hospital issued pajamas enters) (Doctor presses his palms together, watching her like she's a bug under a microscope)
(His paperweight explodes)
Scribe: "You just thought something uncomplimentary about me, didn't you?"
Nurse: "Have fun." (Leaves).
Title: All You Need to Have a Lunatic Asylum... 2/?
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Xena Mary Sue
Pairing:
Status: Finished
Series/Sequel: Loosely tied to my other Mary Sues
Summary: The doctor is trying to analyze Scribe. *snort* Yeah, right.
Archive: Yes
Feedback: Yes. On list, or to poet77665@catlover.com
Disclaimer: I did not create and do not own any readily recognizable media characters. I have no agreement, legal or otherwise, with the creators or
owners. This is purely for entertainment--I have not made, do not seek, and will not accept any profit for it. This story is in no way meant to reflect
on the lives or life styles of the actors/actresses who originally portrayed the characters. I have nothing but fond affection and respect for them, for
giving me so much entertainment, and no disrespect is meant by anything herein.
Rating: Teen
Warnings:
Notes: The quote is from My Man Godfrey--"All you need to have a lunatic asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people." The doctor is
named Krankenstrain. I like to think it's something Groucho Marx would have come up with.
Personal Websites: http://www.scribescribbles.com and http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver (which can be reached through the previous site).
All You Need to Have a Lunatic Asylum... 2/?
by Scribe
Scribe: "That's the first time I've ever seen a penguin explode. Ya gotta watch those novelty paperweights."
(Doctor brushes bits of penguin out of his hair and off his desk)
Doctor: "I have to try to remember where I bought that, so I can sue someone."
Scribe: "Go for it. You won't win, but hey--it's the national sport."
Doctor: "Miss... (hesitates) Scribe?"
Scribe: "Yesssss?"
Doctor: "So you answer to that name?"
Scribe: "Sometimes. I'm like a cat about that. I answer if it suits me. If it doesn't, I'm selectively deaf."
Doctor: "And it suits you to listen to me?"
Scribe: (leans elbows on desk) "You interest me. The doomed are always fascinating." (Doctor writes a note) "And no, I'm not trying to intimidate
you. I'm not a generally intimidating person." (She smiles) "Unless you know me, or know ABOUT me."
Doctor: "Miss Scribe, do you know why you're here?"
Scribe: (Starts ticking off on fingers) "My neighbor is an asshole who won't pen his chickens, then won't take responsibility for the feathered lizards.
Our local constable is a geek. No--I lie. I mustn't insult geeks, some of them are mega sexy. Our local constable is a brother in assholiness with my
neighbor. The doctor who examined me has no imagination. The civil system that stuck me here is screwed. Mercury is rising, the moon is in the
seventh house, Jupiter aligned with Mars, and I'm having a pissy run of luck." (she shrugs) "Shit happens. I wouldn't really mind all that much if the
food was better and I had Internet access. I could use it as research for future fics, but the lack of Pop Tarts, Diet Pepsi, and mailing list access is
bumming me out. I wanna go home."
Doctor: "It's for the best. You can access disturbing material on the web, Diet Pepsi has far too many chemicals in it, and Pop Tarts are bad for
you."
Scribe: "SACRILEGE!" (Holds up fingers in the sign of the cross and hisses at him)
Doctor: (Strained) "You have quite a sense of humor."
Scribe: "Who's joking? You're obviously the Antichrist. I suppose you disapprove of smut and fanfiction, too?"
Doctor: "What is fanfiction?"
Scribe: (Stares at him, almost pityingly) "All right, you're not the Antichrist. You're just a poor, ignorant heathen. I think you might have the
potential to be human if we found you the right fandom."
Doctor: "I've noticed you have an obsession with the pop media. You've built your world around it. We have to bring you back to reality."
Scribe: "Why?" (Doctor stares at her) "No, seriously--why? If I'm delusional, I'm perfectly happy with it."
Doctor: "But you must accept the real world."
Scribe: "Why must I? Have you listened to the evening news lately? What's so great about the real world? Murder, rape, bombings, child abuse, war,
floods, fires, famine, corporate looting, obscene paychecks for pro athletes, and widespread belief that if a couple doesn't consist of one person with
a penis and one person with a vagine there's something wrong with them."
Doctor: (Is blinking rapidly) "But these things exist in television and movies also."
Scribe: "Yeah, but I can turn the dial or walk out of the theater. And since I'm creating my own reality, I can do that with my life, too. Why should I
give it up?"
Doctor: "But don't you see, your responsibilities..."
Scribe: *howl* *sniff* "Excuse me? I was honest about some things on my admittance form. I'm not married, engaged, or going steady. Um... Don't
tell Jett or Xander I said that. I mean not on this plane of existance. I don't have a job--I'm on disability. I have no children to care for. My cat just
has to be fed and watered, I keep my own clothes laundered, cook and feed myself, and occasionally clean up the kitchen for my Mom. I'm doing all
that splendidly just as I am. I don't NEED to be any more competent."
Doctor: "But you could contribute to society."
Scribe: "Been there, done that, still doing it."
Doctor: "How? Do you work in charities?"
Scribe: "In a way. I provide several thousand, perhaps dozens of thousands, of people with entertainment. I make 'em think, smile, giggle, and
occasionally laugh so hard they fall off their chairs and scare the pets or their housemates. At least they've SAID that I do. How about you?"
Doctor: "I beg your pardon?"
Scribe: "What are you contributing to society?"
Doctor: "I'm a healer."
Scribe: "Uh-huh. Who was the last person you cured?"
Doctor: "Well... uh... We had a patient released just last week."
Scribe: "Was he cured?"
Doctor: "He was a lot better."
Scribe: "I can make people better by rubbing their temples and calling them 'poor, sweet baby'. Did you CURE him?"
Doctor: "It's very hard to define a cure in these cases."
Scribe: "Translation: no."
Doctor: *harumph* "Let's get back on track. You're here because you have been observed to be delusional." (Checks notes) "You also seem to
suffer from visual and auditory hallucinations..."
Scribe: "Don't suffer. I enjoy every minute of them."
Doctor: "Paranoia..."
Scribe: "I should warn you: it's seldom safe to annoy me. And it isn't paranoia if they really ARE out to get you."
Doctor: "And you believe that everyone is..." (Makes quotation marks with fingers) "Out to get you."
Scribe: "I'll let you read my Proverbs Series some time, then you tell me."
Doctor: "And a messianic complex."
Scribe: (shakes head) "No, definitely not. I have to take exception with you there. Messianic implies that I believe that I'm the savior of mankind
and/or the world, or the direct descendant of God. Now, being a Southern Baptists I've believed from an early age that I'm a child of God and Jesus
loves the little children, but I don't list God under father when I fill out forms, and I don't put Jesus down under 'siblings'." (thinks) "Is there an official
name for conditional god with a small g?"
Doctor: "What do you mean?"
Scribe: "Well, I AM the Greek goddess of Erotica and Cats." (Doctor is making notes) "I can write this all down, if you like. Anyway, since the
Pantheon is scarcely worshiped anymore, that's hardly relevant in this time frame, except for the friends I've made. But I AM a god in a sense that
I've created a universe... at least a VERSION of several universes, and pretty much control what goes on in it. No, I'm not being vain, just factual.
Heck, sometimes I run things about as well as I used to run my budget, and you should have SEEN my bank statements."
Doctor: (studies own notes) "You're an interesting case. You seem to have a remarkable ability to get others to buy into your delusions."
Scribe: "I've been told that before. Something about sucking people in."
Doctor: "You have some of the staff, even my own nurse, convinced that you have a hand in the odd incidents that have happened since you're
arrival."
Scribe: "I haven't." (pauses a beat) "Not directly."
Doctor: "My nurse said that you blame it on someone called Strife."
Scribe: "I don't BLAME it on him. I CREDIT it to him. It's his job, and he does it well."
(Door opens. Doctor looks up, frowning)
(Tall, pale, skinny man dressed in black leather and safety pins strolls in. Doctor looks right through him)
Doctor: "Now what caused that?"
Scribe: "I could tell you, but why give you an excuse to medicate me?"
(Doctor gets up and goes to shut the door) (Strife strolls over to Scribe and sits on her lap)
Strife: "Hiya. Jett wants ta know if ya want him ta come ovah an' kill anybody."
(Scribe purses lips, mentally ticking over possibilities)
Scribe: "Mmm... No. Better not. This whole Greek god thing is going to be hard enough to explain when I get to the Pearly Gates without adding
solicitation of murder."
Doctor: (sitting back down) "What was that?"
Scribe: "I wasn't speaking to you."
Doctor: "Who were you talking to?"
Scribe: "Strife?"
Doctor: (Tone becomes faintly condescending) "Is he here now?"
Scribe: "Would I be talking to him if he wasn't?"
Strife: "Who is this jerk?"
Scribe: "He's the head doctor in charge." (Doctor makes notes. Scribe peers over Strife and reads them) "I do NOT think you're Strife!"
Strife: "I'm fuckin insulted!" (Stands up, turns around, and moons doctor)
Scribe: "Whoops! Watch it, Doc. I haven't seen him take this quick a dislike to anyone since Gabby."
Doctor: "Who is this Gabby?"
Strife: "He don't know her? Lucky man."
Doctor: "Abot this Strife--many people have imaginary friends when they are children, but when we grow up..."
Strife: (Starts forming a powerball) "UN-lucky man."
Scribe: "Strife, stop it! Besides, admit it--you HAVE been the invisible imaginary friend for generations of kids." (Strife giggles, looks around, and
flicks the powerball at an air vent) (It disappears. A second later there's a hollow, clanging boom somewhere nearby, then the muffled sound of
swearing) "What did you do?"
Strife: "Just sent a present ta tha guy tryin ta repair that AC unit. He may need new braces, but he'll be all right, an' that'll teach him not ta hold a
screwdriver in his teeth when his feet are damp, an' he's workin with somethin electrical."
Scribe: "God, you're evil."
Doctor: "It may seem like that to you, but I'm trying..." (Strife moves behind Doctor and swats him on the back of the head) "Ow!"
Strife: (Makes a kiss at Scribe) "I love ya, too, toots. Why'n't ya let me break ya outta here?"
Scribe: "Because I'd want to go home, and having a SWAT team armed with butterfly nets break down the door to your mother's home is SO
annoying."
Strife: (shrugs) "My Ma would enjoy it. There'd be a mess ta clean up aftah, but hey--if it gives her a few giggles..."
Scribe: "Eris' idea of giggles would give Idi Amin nightmares."
Doctor: (making notes) "Patient seems to be suffering a psychotic break..."
Scribe: "Why, you--!" (Stands up, voice rising) "You want psychotic?"
Strife: (Materializes popcorn) "This should be interestin."
tbc