“Doc,” Jho said to his therapist. “I have an appetite problem.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that I have one.”
“I see.”
Jho shifted on the couch. It was a new couch. He’d eaten the last one on his previous visit. This one wasn’t nearly as comfortable and smelled vaguely of Bitter Apple. “I can’t stop myself.”
“Why would you want to?”
“You don’t understand.” Jho swung his narrow head toward the doc. Ropes of drool swung back and forth. “I want to eat everything. Birds, small children. Bricks.”
“Well, why don’t you?”
“Sometimes I do.” Jho wanted to rub his chin or do something else to indicate deep thought. But his Tyrannosaurus arms were too short, and besides, he never really thought very deeply. “The problem is those hunters.”
“The ones with bowguns and longswords?”
Jho nodded. “They always bring meat and I can’t help but eat it — every single time.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s tainted meat!”
The doc tapped her chin with a ball-point pen. “I see.”
Jho was jealous of the chin tapping. Also, the pen. “It paralyzes me and then they beat the crap out of me. Pierce ammo is even worse.”
“Have you tried not eating the meat?”
“Of course.” Jho glared at the doc, but his eyes were too tiny for anyone to notice. Usually he just roared when he got pissed off. “But it’s like trying not to breathe. Sometimes I start going for the meat before they even put it on the ground.”
“I see.” The doc wrote a note on her memo pad. It was a real memo pad, made from 98% post-consumer waste, but Jho knew the note was fake: he’d peeked one day, and all she ever did was draw cartoons — of him. “I think I have a solution.”
“So do I.” Jho rolled off the couch. His drool darkened the carpet. “I’m hungry.”
The doc glanced up at him, then back down at her memo pad. She was probably making his dumb, bulbous jaw look even dumber and more bulbous. “Have you considered going on a diet?”
“I’m on a diet right now.” Jho took a long breath and roared. “And you’re my RDA of human flesh!”
The doc didn’t even look up. “I’m sure,” she said. “But let’s not forget I have a bowgun.”
Jho laughed, spewing saliva on the walls. “I ate all your pierce ammo!”
This time the doc did look up. “Oh, really?” She reached into a drawer. “Then how about dessert?” She pulled out a bright blue slab of aptonoth meat.
“No!” Jho drooled. “Don’t!”
The doc dropped the meat onto the carpet. “Help yourself.”
“Shit.” Jho slurped up the meat. So tasty! He took one woozy step backwards and keeled over with a thump. He snored like a train engine.
The doc pressed a button on her office phone. “Henry, make a new appointment for Mr. Deviljho,” she said. “Oh, and bring me a couple of L+ bombs while you’re at it.”
June 21, 2015
