Counseling psychology sessions + Sonic the Hedgehog

Thanks to Katie for this weeks suggestion, I found it more difficult than I was anticipating. Also, sorry for the week of silence. I we went camping for our honeymoon and didn't bring computers.

On the top floor of the Sega Enterprises building, there is a small office in the middle of the open building layout with no windows, and a wooden door as heavy as the feeling Yuji carried in his chest. He felt like he was in trouble, as if he'd been falsely accused of some ugly crime.

"Welcome Yuji. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Yuji sat on the edge a long leather couch, rested his elbows on his knees and tried not to make eye contact with the strange western doctor. He had big round eyes that were positioned too close together, idiotic round glasses, and a bushy mustache that made him seem powerful and dangerous.

"Is there anything in particular you would like to talk about today?"

His Japanese was passable as far as vocabulary was concerned, but there was something offensive about the way he pronounced everything back in his soft palate.

"Īe."

He made a note on his big aluminum clipboard. "That's quite alright. Is there anything that's been bothering you?"

"Īe."

The doctor took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "Yuji, I know this can be difficult. You and I don't know each other at all, yet I'm asking you to talk to me as if we were harmonious. Let's start slow. Watashinonamaeha aru Doctor Robert Nicks, I work for Sega Technical Institute back in the U.S.."

Yuji slid farther back on the couch. "I'm a programmer, I write code for the Sega Mega Drive."

Doctor Nicks smiled. "Good. I understand you're having trouble coming up with a concept for your new game?" In reaction to Yuji's tensing up, he pulled his question, "Never mind that. Do you have any hobbies?"

Hobbies? Yuji thought, looking around Doctor Nick's office he noticed that he had furnished the walls with many wall shelves. Each shelf varied by length and height starting at around waist level, and they weren't arranged parallel up the wall like a ladder, but randomly, at different heights and intervals. Yuji imagined he was six-inches tall and had to climb to the top of the wall by jumping up the shelves. "Coding is my hobby."

Yuji passively argued with Doctor Nicks over the nuances of a hobby while looking at all of the things on his shelves. There was the obligatory shelf of awards, diplomas, and certificates. The sturdiest shelf was occupied with thick books with long English names. But all the others were taxidermy of various sizes and shape, all of them protected under glass bell jars. The shelf closest to them held a blue bird with a rosy chest perched on a branch. Above that was a chubby little brown bird with a short, upturned tail, and big white eyebrow stripes that made it look very serious. On another shelf, perched on the side of a grey and weathered piece of barn board, was a small white bird with black wings and white spots, it had a black crest, a black chinstrap beard, and a tiny spot of red at the back of its head. All the other shelves were covered in eggs. Nests filled with green eggs, or blue eggs, or spotted brown eggs. There were Ukrainian painted Easter eggs, and golden eggs, but most of them were actual bird eggs.

Yuji had stopped paying attention, but Doctor Nicks hadn't noticed yet. "...is to calm the chaos of your thoughts. Thoughts can be very powerful and if one can focus that power--you're looking at my nature collection." Nicks rose from his chair, "This is a fine example of focusing the chaos into something productive." From the most central shelf, he took something that Yuji has glanced over at first-- thinking it was some kind of giant burr--from under its bell jar. He cradled the spiky object in his hands and as he brought it closer to Yuji, he could see the spiky ball had a tiny mouse face.

"This is the prize of my collection," Doctor Nicks said. "This was my first taxidermy I ever got. My brother got it for me in Africa. It's my favorite. Atelerix albiventris. Hejjihoggu."

Yuji shook his head, "Hari Nezumi." Needle mouse.

A small bell chimed. "And that's the end of our time today. Next time I'd like to talk more about finding things that refresh your creative energy."

Pressure, Yuji thought, feeling a wave of creative energy wash over him. I know exactly what I'm going to do about this new project.

Boy Scouts + and a Shaggy Dog

A note from the author:
Wha? what's this at the top? is it a NEW FEATURE? It is! I'm pleased to announce Reality Fan Fiction is now available in "Read it for you" mode. Now, Reality is available wherever you are. That's what I call convenient!  Now RFF updates twice a week! New Stories on Wednesdays, and 'Read it for you' on Tuesdays.


 At the end of a long winding dirt road, deep in the woods by a shallow pond, under a clear sky and a blanket of a million billion stars, a campsite and nine figures is silhouetted by a small crackling fire.

     "So Sam hobbled up to the mansion, barely daring to put weight on his leg which he had broken when his canoe went over Niagara falls, remember? He was worried the butler would take one look at his clothes which were torn-up from the miles of briars and thorns he had walked through to get here. Take another look at his hair, pulled out in patches by the troupe of escaped circus monkeys. And take a final look at his one remaining shoe, you all remember what happened to the shoe?" Giggles and nods were his only response. "He'd take one look and turn Sam away. But he swallowed his fear and walked slowly up to the front door. He lifts the heavy golden knocker and lets it fall. One... Two... Three times and he waits."

    The leader of troupe 58008 waited. The dying firelight flickering on his face as his scouts leaned in closer, their marshmallow and chocolate stained mouths hanging slightly open.

     "The door was open by a butler, dressed in a fine suit of white and black, who was professional to the point where he didn't even bat an eye at poor disheveled looking Sam. I'm--"

    "What's de-shoveled?" asked a scout with curly red hair, freckles, and wide green eyes.

     "Nooooo, Joseph!" the boys chided him. "He's just going to make the story longer!"

     "I'm glad you asked," the scout leader said, smiling. "Disheveled is an ooooold English word, which is probably why you don't recognize it, that means untidy, or disorderly especially when relating to appearance. It's similar to the word kerfermuffeled." His eyes twinkled as he waited for them to take the bait.

     "What's--" Joseph began, but the other boys elbowed him and he shut up.

     "Get back to the story," the boys demanded.

     "Well, if you're not enjoying it..." The scout leader seemed about to get up to leave.

     "We're not! But we want to hear then end!"

     "Really? It doesn't sound that way."

     "Tell it!" Demanded the tallest of the boys, William, a Pop Warner quarterback for the junior midget division.

     "Not if you ask like that!"

     "Pleeeeeese?" Said Joseph.

     "Fine, but no more interruptions." The scout leader settled back down. "Once, deep in the great forests of Ontario Canada, there was a man named Sam..."

     "No! That's the beginning we were almost to the end." The boys were practically ripping out their hair.

     "I know, but I forgot my place, so I have to start all over. Once, deep in the great--"

     William stood and said, "Samwalkeduptothedoor. Heknockedthreetimes. Thebutleropenedthedooranddidn'tcarehewas...disheveled!" he was punctuating his sentences with a gesture like he was shaking someone by the shoulders.

     "Ah yes, that's right. Thank you William. This butler was a real professional and didn't even bat an eye at Sam's kerphrumpled appearance. Nor did he turn his nose up at the shaggy dog, with its hair brown and smelling like swamp muck from their journey through the great swamps of northern Michigan, and it's shaggs even shaggier from all the thorns and burrs. 'I'm here,' said Sam, 'Because of the newspaper article offering a million dollars for the world's shaggiest dog.' he took the soggy and battered, but still legible newspaper clipping from his back pocket and handed it to the butler who brushed it aside. He knew exactly why Sam was here. 'Of course sir.' he said, bent over, picked up the shaggy dog, and carried him inside. For a long time Sam waited."

     ...

     The chorus of crickets and katydids laid a perfect soundtrack for the waiting. The scout leader stood, partially to relieve himself from the smoke as it drifted his direction, and partially to act out Sam waiting on the door step. A bullfrog from the nearby lake started croaking.

     "Then what happened,"  said Hayao, as he put a pine cone on the fire.

     "Hayao, the fire is smoky enough as it is. Stop putting pine cones in, I'm not going to ask you again."

     "Good, that means I can keep doing it without you bothering me."

     "No. It mean you go to bed without hearing the end.

     "So there was Sam, waiting on the stoop of this huge mansion and he's listening to the footsteps of the butler walk away as he carried the shaggy dog deep into the house to show to his master. And he waits for a long time, thinking once again to how he was going to spend that million dollars."

     "I'd buy a go kart," said Hayao.

     "You could buy a hundred go karts! I'd buy an amusement park!"

     "I'd buy a hundred go karts then!"

     "I'd quit my job," said the scout leader.

     "Heeeeeey!" the scouts cried.

     "Don't cut me off! I was about to say: So I could work for the scouts full-time." They eyed him suspiciously, and he continued. "Finally Sam heard the footsteps returning. The door opened and the butler set the shaggy dog back on the stoop, not seeming to mind the grey stains the wet pooch had left behind. 'So when do I get the million dollars?' Sam asked. To which the Butler replied, 'the master says, this dog's not so shaggy.'

   "The end."

     The look on the boy's faces was one of disbelief and surprise. It was the look of a person who just realized they'd been conned out of a lot of money. It was the look of someone who'd just been told they were about to die and as they thought back over their life they realized the whole thing was entirely meaningless. It was the look of someone who has just binge-watched How I Met your Mother and had just finished the finale.

     The scout leader checked his phone. 10:52pm. He did some quick math in his head, That's... ninety-eight minutes. Goddamn you Ron Clements!

      "Time for bed!" the scout leader said, and continued speaking over the din of the boy's groans, "Remember to check yourself for ticks and zip your mummy bags up all the way. Lights out in TEN MINUTES!"

#

     Under the suffocating, but light and sound proof sleeping bag shelter, the boys huddled close together. Whispering as the iPhone was drawn from the bottom of Hayao's sleeping bag, "What the was up with that crap story?" Joseph said. "Such a letdown."

     William shook his head, "I don't know, but we're going to find out."

     Hayao turned it on. "Only one gee here, the signal's weak."

     "One Gee?!" William said.

     "ShhhhhHHH!"

     "Search for 'long crappy stories'."

     "No. Search for 'Sam the Canadian'!"

     "It's a wikipedia page for Sam Sniderman."

     "Sniiiiderman... Sniiiiderman... doing the things a Sniiiiderman can!" The boys all giggled, then shushed each other.

     "He's just some butt hole, there's nothing about a dog."

     "Butt hole!" one of them sniggered.

     "Oh grow up. Search for 'shaggy dog'."

     "Okay..."

     "No turd shirt, it's just going to be pictures of dogs."

     An owl hooted as they waited for the page to load. The first hit was the Internet movie database.

     "It's IMDB, what the hell? Disney made that upper-decker of a story into a real-life movie, TWICE!"

     "What's on upper-decker?" asked Joseph.

     "You don't know what an upper-decker is?" said William.

     "They make baseball cards," said Hayao.

     "Baseball cards!" William laughed, "You nerds, it's when you poop in the top part of a toilet."

     "Why am I a nerd for not knowing the names of weird places to poop?"

     "Shhhh, you guys, I found it!" Hayao whispered. "A shaggy dog is a type of story that is intentionally long and pointless, with an anticlimactic ending."

     "What the hell, he told us the longest, boringist, drawn-out story just for the hell of it?!"

     "Wikipedia says Ron Clements was a scout master in the nineties, who was raised almost to the status of urban legend for holding the record for telling the longest 'shaggy dog story' ever. One hundred and four minutes!"

     "Pssh," William hissed. "That story's not so long."

4D Cinema + Democracy

     A cool spring breeze blew from the west, that smelled fresh, but carried undertones of the shared dumpster behind the Trader Joes. As the setting sun sank below the rolling, periwinkle hills, and the cotton candy clouds on sticks of contrails dissipated into puddles of fluff, the line around the Danford Cineplex stretched longer than the shadow of the gigantic golden arches on the corner of route 30.

Maria wore a Red ApocalEclipse T-shirt with two star-crossed lovers staring longingly into each other's eyes. The characters are both 17, but played by actors well in their twenties. On the back of the shirt it said "Red Army".  When the breeze picked up she unconsciously zippered up her windbreaker, concealing the T-shirt but never taking her eyes off her phone. "The Pollster for the Danford Cineplex says our ending is 56% likely!"

Another watcher, who Maria only knew by his internet handle Eclipse1999 said, "Pollster is contaminated, the Death Campers always vote in our favor to make our lobbyists lazy."

"Maybe, but someone from the group of War Camp watchers at the front of the line keeps tweeting with the hash "tonight's the night"."

The Red Army, the Danford faction of War Camp, was perhaps thirty strong, but there were only eighteen present in Maria's group of watchers. The line itself was around 300 long and every-so-often a pox-marked man in his thirties, in a red Cineplex vest would labor past, clicking a head count and letting everyone past 250 know that there were no tickets for sale, and no guarantee of getting in.

"Well look who it is," said R3dHors3, "Vinnie decided to show up."

Maria looked up to see a fellow Red Army watcher walking toward them, she had never met him before, but felt the instant camaraderie she'd felt with all the Red Army. Vinnie said, "Hey. I'm Vinnie," and though many didn't bother looking up from their phones, the group opened up to welcome him into its mass. "I'm seeing a lot of Death Camp shirts, there must be at least three lobbying the north wall. Don't kill the messenger, but I get the feeling that we should try again on another night, maybe not on a Friday when there are so many Firsties."

"Firsties are our best bet!" said ApocalForever as he came back from lobbying. "Half of them are content to be manipulated by the freaking soundtrack, but the other half are happy to hear what kind of movie they can choose if they vote for the right timeline."

RedArmy1 spoke up. "It's true. Apocal, how many did you get?"

"Twelve."

RedArmy1 nodded, "Nice."

Vinnie seemed unimpressed. "You know how Firsties are, they say yes, but half of them get wrapped up in the movie and forget when it comes down to the timeline choice! Then they try to tell you they voted the other way at the end when you're doling out rewards."

RedArmy1 squared off with him, "Who are you?"

R3dHors3 spoke up and tried to put himself between Red and Vinnie, "This is my friend Vinnie."

RedArmy1 ignored him, "What's your eu-en, Vinnie?"

"I don't have a username, I'm not on your forum, I'm from Newberg. Ryan --sorry-- Red horse said you guys had a chance to see the Red Army ending. I'm here to support, but it looks like you're outnumbered."

RedArmy1 backed down, "Well, thanks for driving all the way out here." He shook his head, "Gaaah, I want to see that ending so bad! I've seen this movie thirty freaking times, and I swear if I see another sappy ending where Pestilence and Famine team up with Gabriel and Death, I will drive-by the director's house!"

"Oh shit!" Maria said, "Twitter just exploded! A group of watchers down in Austin got the Red Army. They didn't spoil it, or give timeline directions, but they keep hashing 'darkest timeline'."

Redleah4, one of other women in the Red Army asked, "What if we vote FOR Death early, maybe there's a timeline vote that could paint the son of Death as a power hungry ass-bag? People will be more likely to route for the underdog later."

          Maria shook her head, but RedArmy1 answered, "We tried that last month."

Redleah4's shoulders slumped, and Maria offered, "Yeah. Remember the timeline where Leah gets in trouble with the gang of Morphine dealers? Within the first week of the ApocalEclipse opening, spoilers got around and everyone found out that when Leah chooses the Son of War, it puts the War compound in a position to side with Leah, but War would have to kill the Morphos--"

"And without the Morphos, Pestilence would have a foothold into War's compound," Redl4ah realized aloud.

Maria continued, "Right. It forces the Son of War to leave his family, but without the compound he's straight-up pathetic. Like Dudley Dursley pathetic. Leah starts doubting his ability to protect their child, but that's before he knows she's preggers.  Ever since the second week only firstie watchers ever vote for that Son of War timeline, unless we tell them how it ends."

"How we think it ends," Vinnie corrected.

Redleah4 sucked on her hair. "Hm. I knew I was supposed to vote for her to ask for the Son of Death's help, but I mean, we're Red Army so I never wanted to ask why it seemed like we were helping Death Campers."

RedArmy1 turned to Maria, "Madonna2000, go recruit some more Firsties."

In all fairness it was her turn, but she got the feeling that RedArmy1 was punishing her for mentioning their failed conquest. She nodded and started wandering down the line.

"Hey, hi," she said, approaching a couple obviously from the city.

"We have pre-buy," said the man/husband, assuming she was going to ask them for tickets, "Sorry non-transferable." he shrugged.

"I'm not here to buy, I was just wondering if you have put any thought into your timeline choices?"

They exchanged a look that only old people were capable of, and the woman shook her head. "Sorry. We don't vote."

"WHAT?" Maria couldn't help herself and probably lost two watchers in the process, "Why on Earth would you come to a 4D movie and not vote? The alternate timelines are the whole point? Do you also watch 3D movies with an eye patch?"

The man/husband stepped toward her, sheltering his wife like a delicate flower from a frost named Maria. "We just couldn't make it in time for the director's cut okay?"

Maria walked away. Not okay. Maybe I'll have better luck converting voting watchers, she thought and soon noticed a tall young man reading the ApocalEclipse fan forum, she stepped into his cloud of Old Spice and asked, "What's your timeline route?"

The young man looked up. He had piercing green eyes like the Son of War himself, and ice-green piercings in his lip and eyebrow. He swiped his finger across the screen of his phone and read, "Yes to the rave; No to morphine; Yes to the ride home.--"

"Pssh," she interrupted playfully, "I've seen that movie already, it's so Disney Princess the only thing it's missing is talking mice!"

He narrowed his eyes challenging her, "Well, at least tell me your favorite timeline so I can crap on your parade."

She grinned, "The one I haven't seen."

"You'd have to go hundreds of times to see all the endings."

"Two-fourty-three to see every variation, but there are only three endings--"

"Hashtag spoiler alert!"

"You're on the AE forum!"

"But think of the other people within earshot," he said lowering his voice.

"True," she copied his volume level and leaned deeper into his cloud, "I want to see what happens when she falls in love with the Son of War."

He seemed to realized that he was being lobbied,  "You like the bad boy type huh? I could be persuaded, what're you offering?"

Oh my God, this cute guy is flirting with me. I mean he's kind of cute, which is to say that he is cute, but a little out of my league. Yeah, cause I totally have a league, it's whatever sports metaphor means the very bottom. Bottom feeders, that's my league. Catfish, Lobsters, those sort of things. Suddenly she knew without a doubt that if she flirted with him, he would vote on her route and they would see the Red Army ending. It was just like the movie, she could even see the prompt jump up before her eyes.

Timeline choice in 3... 2... 1...

1) Flirt with him

2) Shoot him down

#

Audience chose:  Flirt with him!

He seemed to realized that he was being lobbied,  "You like the bad boy type, huh? "

Maria smiled out of the corner of her mouth and said, "Depends, does your dad command the Red army?"

"Maybe? Is that what those guys with the armor made from truck tires are called?"

"Oh my God, I love that guy with the shield made from a car door!"

"That's the Red army? Really? No wonder you haven't gotten your ending, those guys are hella communists!"

"No they're not! They're stylized after the Vikings! The loot from the raids was given to the lord and redistributed according to valor!"

"Wow, calm down on the Discovery Channel."

"Read Beowulf bitch! and next time you try negging, pick someone who's within your IQ bracket, and Old Spice does not replace a shower."

As Maria watched the Angel Gabriel leading the charge with Death, Pestilence, and Famine at his back she thought back to that moment and wondered if it would have been worth it to let that asshole walk all over her, after all, they did lose their timeline vote by one, and Maria knew exactly which one it was.

#

Audience chose: Shoot him down!

He seemed to realized that he was being lobbied,  "You like the bad boy type huh? I could be persuaded, what're you offering?"

"Excuse me? What kind of girl do you think I am?"

He raised his hands, "I... I didn't mean it like that; Death Camp came by here earlier and they were offering 10 unique Twitter followers for their ending."

Maria shook her head, "Damn, that's good. We've got a man on the inside who can get us first in line to buy tickets for the final showing of ApocalEclipse next month."

He seemed surprised, "That's better! I supposed you'll require proof for that."

"So you'll vote for our route?" Maria could barely contain her excitement.

He looked back to his phone, "No, this is the last time I'm going to watch it. I'm writing an ApocalEclipse fan fiction where Leah gets sold as a human commodity. I've already got everything I need from the movie, now I just need the followers."

"That doesn't make any sense, no AE fan would ever read that," But then Maria realized he didn't even know what the Red Army was, he'd never even seen that timeline. "Son of a bitch you're a Troll!"

He laughed in her face, "Nice to meet you. I'm Austin, as in Austin Texas." It felt like a cold knife through the heart, and then he twisted it, "Didn't you ever wonder why the Red Army ending is so illusive?"

She hadn't even considered it before and yet it had been her life for the last three months. "There IS no Red Army ending."

#

The tall young man who smelled of Old Spice was staring at her with a concerned look on his face. "Hellooo? You okay? You just like... zoned out or something. How long have you been in line?"

Maria shook her head and the dust of alternate timelines flew off and away from her like a flock of pigeons from an oncoming car. "Yeah, I'm okay. A few hours."

"Here," he reached into a black messenger bag with the ApocalEclipse moon and anarchy 'A' symbol stitched onto the front, and pulled out an unopened bottled water.

"Thanks," she said, taking it from him.

While she drank he asked, "What are you offering if I vote for your timeline?"

"How many times have you seen this movie?" She asked.

"5. I didn't want to get on board at first, but then I started reading the forums and got sucked into the Easter Egg hunts. This time I'm going for 'No morphine' because it unlocks a bonus scene between Pestilence and Gabriel, where Pest has a momentary change of heart and decides to hide the Nephilim child. It's Fiennes' best performance since Deathly Hallows, supposedly that scene is the why he decided to do the role."

Maria looked at the people standing around him. He seemed alone. "Are these your watchers?" she asked not even believing it herself.

"No, I'm solo."

She shook her head, "You're never going to get that scene if you don't build up voters. Basically you're just taking votes from the Red Army ending."

"Maybe, but this is the only reason I'm at the Cineplex. I'd rather do something else than watch a movie I don't want to see, much less sit through a movie just so I can vote to watch a movie I don't want to see." He sighed, "How do they get us to do this? You know we can just watch all the endings when it comes out on DVD."

Maria started to cry, "But I don't want to miss it. I've spent three months of my life watching, and voting for this one movie that I'm going to kick myself if I'm not there to see it and celebrate with my people."

He shrugged, "My people are hunters, we search alone."

"Not anymore," she said. "Can I cut?"

He smiled, moved over, and she stepped into line beside him. "I'm Mado--I mean-- Maria."

He looked embarrassed about something. "I'm Gabriel, and before you ask: yes, it's my real name; yes, I know I'm named after the bad guy in the movie; and yes, I do vote for my namesake to  die."

Maria took another sip of water and thought, maybe there's a reason the Disney princess ending is so popular...