Couples Therapy
« on: November 25, 2017, 05:13:21 PM »
Dr. Johnson is one of the most renowned couples therapists in the Greater Toronto Area. Like any other day, his waiting room was full of young couples trying to last just a little bit longer. The silence throughout the room mixed with the multiple fish tanks scattered about gave an almost eerie feeling. Just as it seemed things couldn’t become more calm, the door was flung open by none other than The Franchinger.
“Come on, Wolfie boy. Your appointment is at 1pm and we’re running late."
As The Franchinger inched further into the room, Wolfe was pulled around the corner as if he was being dragged by his own hand.
“Wolfe doesn’t wanna go to couples therapy! Wolfe wants to be at home making more puppets."
“This is exactly why we are here. Now, let’s go. Dr. Johnson is waiting."
You would expect more people to be worried about the man talking to his finger in the middle of a waiting room. Instead, all of the other patients don’t even seem to notice. Wolfe and Franchinger continue to argue as they walk right past the receptionist and into Dr. Johnson’s office. As Franchinger pushes open the door, Dr. Johnson looks up from his watch, clearly waiting on the two to arrive.
“Wolfe. Franchinger. So nice of you to arrive. Take a seat please."
“Wait, where’s Jess? Shouldn’t she be here for couples therapy too?"
“Jess? You two have been divorced for months. This is for us, Wolfie boy. We need to be on the same page if you’re ever going to start winning matches again."
“Us? Wolfe doesn’t want to go to couples therapy with… is that a fish tank?"
“It is. Although it’s not filled with the most impressive fish."
Wolfe races over to the fish tank and presses his face against the glass. Giggling to himself, he turns his hand with The Franchinger to face Dr. Johnson.
“This is part of the problem, Doc. The boy may be one of the most easily distracted people I’ve ever met. And yet some how he manages to make me talk to you. It’s like his mind is in two places at once in the most literal fashion."
“Ou, look at the goldfish. And that goldfish. And that one! Look at all the bubbles, too. Wolfe is in paradise. Wolfe is making puppets of you little guys as soon as he gets home."
“Right. Now, this is the same Wolfe that was once battling with…”
Dr. Johnson glances down at his file on Wolfe before looking back up at The Franchinger.
“...his inner demon Genocide. A slightly angry version of himself that beat people with a hockey stick. Is that correct?"
“The very same, Doc. The lad was even a champion in his glory days. Now it seems he may be too far out to lunch for me to even bring him back."
“For you. The puppet of his creation. Interesting."
Dr. Johnson takes a moment to scribble down some notes. The notes mention Wolfe’s lack of attention span post Genocide as well as the fact that his finger appears to be his boss. Dr. Johnson reaches into his desk, moves aside various objects, and grabs a puppet he uses to help with the kids the more odd parents to their sessions.
“Wolfe, I have a puppet for you. Why don’t you come take a seat and I’ll let you play with it."
Before the words can even leave Dr. Johnson’s mouth, Wolfe has already spun around and was clambering over the seat.
“Puppet? Wolfe wants a puppet! Gimmie gimmie gimmie gimmie."
With an entirely blank expression, Dr. Johnson drops the puppet back into the desk drawer. Wolfe slides down into his seat with a pout.
“Now then. Wolfe, who is The Franchinger to you?"
“He’s Wolfe’s bestie. Modelled after the great Bobby Franchise, he’s there to be Wolfe’s wealth of knowledge. Wolfe had to name him Franchinger because of copyright. And cause he fits on Wolfe’s finger. Get it? Franchise? Finger? Franchinger? Get it? Do you get it?"
Continuing his blank stare, Dr. Johnson scribbles ‘slightly irritating’ on the pad of paper.
“Now, without The Franchinger, what do you currently hear?"
“Wolfe hears Franchinger and Wiggles. Franchinger has been saying naughty words for the past few minutes. Wiggles doesn’t like being in the dark. Wiggles is the puppet in your drawer."
“You named my puppet?"
“No! Wiggles told Wolfe his name. That’s kinda like kidnapping, keeping him in there. You should let him out. And pass him to me. Pretty please?"
“When these puppets talk to you, do they remind you of your old friend Genocide?"
“What? Geno wasn’t Wolfe’s friend! The puppets are Wolfe’s friend. All Geno ever did was hurt people. Wolfe just wants friends. And hugs. And puppets. Like Wiggles. That puppet in your drawer. Gimme gimme gimme."
Wolfe hops to his feet and starts to pace while continuing to say ‘gimme’ like a cd stuck on loop. Dr. Johnson scribbles out ‘slightly irritating’ and replaces it with ‘incredibly annoying’. He opens the drawer of his desk which pulls the attention of Wolfe. Wolfe jumps back onto the couch and crosses his legs in hopes of Wiggles being let out.
“Now then, if you consider Franchinger to be such an intelligent being, why do you not take his advice when it comes to fighting? Surely he would know best." 
Wolfe starts to tilt to the side as he tries to see around the desk. Just as he thinks he gets a glimpse of Wiggles, Dr. Johnson slams the desk closed. Wolfe slumps back down in a pout.
“Wolfe’s not sure why he can’t play with Wiggles. He seems like the perfect fit for Wolfe’s hand."
“Because you already have Franchinger. Why don’t you put him on."
Jumping back to life, Wolfe grabs Franchinger and slides him on his finger.
“...and then I’m going to take your mother...oh. Hey, Wolfie boy. Sorry you had to hear that."
“Can you explain the mace and vaseline again? Wolfe didn’t get it."
Wolfe turns his hand so Franchinger is facing Dr. Johnson who swears he saw The Franchinger wink at him. Dr. Johnson rubs his eyes and chalks it up to temporary insanity after listening to Wolfe.
“Listen. Franchinger, while I can’t believe I spent thousands of dollars at school just to talk to a puppet, I believe you are taking too aggressive of an approach with Wolfe. And Wolfe, you need to listen a little more to your partner. Now, I’m in no way a wrestling coach. Nor am I even a fan of the sport. But both of you are unhappy with the current losing streak. Wolfe, I believe Franchinger is correct when he says that you need to be aggressive. If you want to be a champion again, that is the steps you will have to take. Now, I’m going to need you both to leave my office. While it has been a pleasure, I have actual couples to help today."
“He’s right, Wolfie boy. You’re going to be facing Starlight this Melee. I’m don’t know much about her but I believe she is a clown, insert question mark here. We’ll need to be properly insync. Now why don’t we leave and I’ll buy you an ice cream."
“Ice cream? Bye Bye Bye Wiggles! Bye Bye Bye Dr. Wiggles Daddy! Bye Bye Bye fishies!"
Hopping to his feet, Wolfe springs over the couch and dances his way out the door.
“Whoops. Forgot my wallet in my other suit. Looks like ice cream is on you again, Wolfie boy."
Dr. Johnson stares in awe at the strangest duo he’s had to give ‘therapy’ to. He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. Placing the glasses back on, he writes ‘Franchinger = Genocide?’ on the paper. What a day this has been.

Fade to black.