“I was referred to you by Mr. Swington-Harris.”

“Oh, was I? Have a seat, please. What can I do for you?”

“I have a gasmask at home and I keep wanting to use it.”

“Ah. If I may ask, is this a sexual thing for you, by any chance?”

“No! That’s disgusting. I simply want to release poison gas in my apartment block and walk around in the smoke while people die around me.”

“Interesting. And why did Mr. Swington-Harris feel that I was the one who could help you?”

“He said that if you couldn’t give me psychiatric help, you would help me procure the material I’d need.”

“This is true.”

“I was wondering if we could sort of skip the first bit and go directly to the procurement part?”

“No we can’t. It’s a routine for me. If we skip any section, it wouldn’t get me off.”

“Get you off?”

“Yes. I do this to later use it as a masturbation fantasy. If we skip a part, it would be like Coitus interruptus.”

“Alright then. Where do you want me?”

“On the couch, please. Left a bit? Now undo the first two buttons of your shirt. Yes, just like that. Now, tell me about your childhood.”