Better Than A Whack With A Chainsaw

Let me in, says Freud, rattling the door handle.

No, says Baby Pierre.

Then you wash the curtains, says Freud.

No, says Baby Pierre.

Do you want to talk about this? says Freud, putting down his paint gun, and wiping his face with his hankie.

Baby Pierre sticks his head out of the window.

One word, says Baby Pierre.

What is it? says Freud, getting out his psychoanalysis notebook.

Sorry, says Baby Pierre.

Apology accepted, says Freud. Let me in.

No, says Baby Pierre. YOU have to say it.

Terence is trying to follow the way this is going. Is somebody winning? Hard to tell.

It's not like at home with Saint Joseph.

Try asking him for an apology!

Hoo hoo! All you'd get is a whack with a chainsaw.

Freud gives up trying to get in through the side door.

He gets in at the front.

Yes, a bit of intelligence, and some lateral thinking. That's all it takes really.

Terence files this in his memory bank: One door shuts, and another door opens.

He wonders if Sweezus knows that.

Of course he does! What Terence knows, Sweezus knows. Unless he's forgotten.

And also, thinks Terence, I am less fond of birds, since the Parrot betrayed us.

...........

( a few seconds, while Freud adjusts the rear vision mirror ).

Freud ( turning round in the driver's seat ): Green Flash, you might like to know.....

Baby Pierre: You cheated.

Freud: It's not cheating to get in the front. It's common sense. And you might like to know.....

Baby Pierre: What might I?

Freud: That your nose is bright orange.

Baby Pierre: That's your fault.

Freud: Here, use my hankie.

Baby Pierre: Is it stinky?

Freud: No, just salty.

Baby Pierre (wiping his nose): Now it's all orange.

Freud: It needs a wash anyway. Now do up your seat belts. We're going.

Yay! cries Baby Pierre.

Yay! cries Terence, highly impressed by his first encounter with psychoanalysis.

Because it's over and everyone's happy.