"Fun With Anger Management"
by Allora "Please Help Me Salvage My Sanity" Atwater
A/N: Well this lil' piece of random insanity was brought on by a friend of mine who's parents are forcing him to take anger management courses at school. So, I was thinking, if a certain Zell Dincht was going a little overboard with the shadowboxing and such, how would his trip to the shrink be?? Some mild cursing, nothing y'all ain't heard before.
Oh and by the way, this is all in good fun cause I love Zell!
Disclaimer: These suck. If I never have to write one of these for the rest of my life, I will die a happy girl. But anyways, here's the standard "I don't own FF8 or any of the characters therein, full credit is given to Squaresoft and I'm just a pitiful girl who is inspired by such". The end.
This is great, Zell thought to himself as he strolled down the halls of Balamb Garden. Squall sure is a great Commander, letting me leave training early ever Wednesday afternoon! I must really be doing a good job. So much so that he feels I need special treatment! Yeah, that's what he called it right? Man, I just hope the other SeeD's don't find out about this! It might make them jealous, and just cause I'm better than them, I don't need to get an ego!
Ah, was Zell ever wrong about himself this fine Wednesday afternoon. Perhaps at the fault of Squall, who insisted upon telling Zell he needed 'special treatment'. For logical, diligent, hard-working Squall, those words clearly sent out the vibe you really need help man! But for Zell, who was convinced that he was one of the Garden's most respected and talented SeeD's, it took on an entirely new meaning.
Maybe it's a special class for advanced fighters like myself? Zell wondered, picking up his pace slightly, a swank in his step. Or maybe it's a cooking class! Y'know, I've always wanted to take a foods lab…
The thought occurred to Zell that perhaps he should check his destination on the slip that Squall had given him. He reached a gloved hand into his pocket and fished around, retrieving a half-eaten hot dog, two chewed up pencils, and several balls of lint before finding the blue strip of paper. He unfolded it, smoothed it out, and struggling to read the fine cursive.
Zell to see Dr. Kadowaki every Wednesday from 1:00 to 2:30pm.
Dr Kadowaki? His brain fumbled to grasp the concept. Uh oh, is this a physical? I really hate those! Hm, maybe Dr. Kadowaki needs extra help at the infirmary? With my amazing skills and precision abilities, it wouldn't surprise me if that's what I'm going to be doing! Remember Zell, keep a good head on your shoulders. Can't go gloating like a pompous jackass. He snickered. Like Seifer.
He headed down the infirmary hall, shouting greetings to fellow students and neglecting to watch where he was walking. The miriad of junior cadets dodging him to avoid collision was certainly no clue to him either. It was part of Zell's endearing charm, his ability to be completely dumbfounded and oblivious. Or to some, it was his curse, the walking firecracker with a short fuse who was ignorant to his surroundings. Either way you looked at it, he was a lovable guy.
Until you pissed him off.
But let's not get into details there.
He stopped at the infirmary door and noticed the sign on the door that read: Out on break. Please go to room E-61. - Dr. Kadowaki. Zell shrugged, more fruitless ideas popping into his head. Maybe I get to go on break too? Ooh! That would be so cool! I'll bet they have their own personal hot dog stash in the faculty lounge! Sweet!
Poor Zell, always setting himself up for disappointment.
He continued down the hall a ways, stopping at room E-61. There was a colorful sign on the door that read: Friendship Club. Little smilies and hearts were drawn in crayon around the bubble letters. I get it. They put a daycare center in Garden and they want me to be the primary caregiver cause of my charming way with kids! Damn, I'm good.
He opened the door. Dr. Kadowaki was sitting in a comfy arm chair, her legs crossed and a drab expression making its way across her features. Zell took note of the plush chairs and couches, and a box full of crayons and coloring books in the center of the room. Kiddie sing-alongs wafted from the small, rainbow-colored stereo and a toy chest was located snugly in the corner of the room. And three faces stared back at him like he was a Carebear on crack.
"Hello Zell," Dr. Kadowaki greeted, motioning him o sit down. "And welcome to Anger Management."
"What the hell is this shit?!" Zell yelled, apparently outraged.
"Well, Mr. Dincht," Kadowaki informed in the most professional, monotone voice she could muster. "You were recommended here by some… friends who suggested you might have a bit of a violent temper and -"
"I DON'T HAVE A VIOLENT GODDAMN TEMPER!" he roared, slamming his fist into a picture of Mickey Mouse, successfully tearing the cartoon rodent a new hole, so to speak.
"Why don't you have a seat Zell."
He kicked at the floor and plopped down in a huff, arms folded defiantly across his chest as the La-Z Boy threatened to swallow him up.
"Now that everyone is here, let's begin by introducing ourselves and explaining what makes us angry."
A girl with a blond ponytail began, toying with a teddy bear that had been placed precariously next to her chair.
"Well, my name's Kalilia and it makes me so mad when my friend Allison goes and talks about me behind my back. I mean, isn't that so rude? I swear, just because she has low self esteem doesn't mean she has to bash me. I can't help it that I have better legs than she does! Or that I'm prettier and more popular than she is! I mean gawd, she needs to take a look in that damn mirror before she says anything about me! It's a privilege I let her be seen with me in public! Like, she was the one that spread the rumor about me and Tommy Mason you know? Eeyagh! I could so just KILL her right now!"
Kalilia emphasized her point by stabbing her stuffed animal in the chest with her eyeliner.
She does have nice legs, Zell thought.
"Thank you Kalina."
"Kalilia."
"Whatever. Next?"
A skinny boy with a pasty complexion and bewildered eyes looked around suspiciously before beginning.
"My name is Edward." His voice was high-pitched and rather effeminate. "I get really upset when the upper classmen beat me up and take me money. I just get these… these violent urges." He twitched at the word 'urges'.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Edward. And now who do we have?" she asked, looking towards Zell.
"But you know my name already Dr. Kadowaki."
"Yes Zell, but Edward and Kalilia don't."
"They do now."
The doctor sighed, putting her head in the hands and rubbing her temples.
Why the hell did they choose me to front this session? I'm a medical physician not a psychiatrist. I don't know the first damn thing about rage disorders except that if this isn't over soon I may develop one!
"Alright Zell, fair enough. Why don't you tell us what makes you angry?"
"I don't get angry."
"Yes you do."
"I do not."
"If you didn't get angry you wouldn't be here."
"And if Garden had more funding, you wouldn't be here either."
"You're being immature."
"And you're being a nag."
"You're a very angry young man."
"I am not."
"Yes you are."
"I DON'T FUCKING GET ANGRY!"
Edward coughed timidly and spoke up. "Do you get angry when people accuse you of being angry?"
"SHUT UP!"
Edward twitched.
Thirty minutes had passed, thirty long, strenuous minutes, and Dr. Kadowaki was sitting on the floor, performing some spiritual yoga ritual. Zell thought it would be funny to steal her meditation beads and use them to make a noose for the Lambchop doll that Kalilia was playing with. The 'anger management' patrons were given free time because of Dr. Kadowaki's considerable migraine, and they sat on the floor with a box of toys.
This is so degrading, Zell thought bitterly, burying Edward in a well-constructed Lego coffin. Playing with little kid toys while I should be out on the field training with my unit. Son of a bitch. They don't even have any cool action figures. Zell thought he heard Edward whimper in protest, but it didn't matter much. That's what he got for sounding like a damn girl. Once Edward was completely entombed, Zell wandered over to Kalilia, who seemed to be engrossed in her activity.
"What're you doing?" Zell blurted out, watching the little blond pluck the plastic eyeballs out of stuffed animals. Her pile of blind little toys glowered at him with hollow, empty stares. It was like looking into a black soul, an impenetrable void that could not be filled. Either that or one of those creepy Egyptian paintings with those guys that wore deer skulls on their heads and danced around in skirts.
"I'm giving them a makeover!" she replied, disgusted with his ignorance. "These eyes are sooo ugly! I mean come on, who's eyes are completely black? That's so yucky. They need color contacts or something."
Edward idly kicked at his lego prison of doom, a deep growl rising in his throat.
The hour and a half session was almost out, and Squall was waiting patiently outside the door, Rinoa latched onto his arm.
"How d'you think he's doing?" Rinoa questioned, peering through the glass to get a better look at Zell.
"I dunno. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this. It might make him even angrier."
"My God, what is he doing?" she pointed, and Squall followed her finger.
Zell was sprawled out on the floor like a monkey, a small boy standing over him saying, "I told you not to make me angry!"
*the end*
Yeah, I know, corny ending right? I couldn't think of anything better, sorry. Oh, and I don't think this is REALLY what anger management counseling is all about, but I thought it would be interesting to put Zell in this situation. Hehehe J
by Allora "Please Help Me Salvage My Sanity" Atwater
A/N: Well this lil' piece of random insanity was brought on by a friend of mine who's parents are forcing him to take anger management courses at school. So, I was thinking, if a certain Zell Dincht was going a little overboard with the shadowboxing and such, how would his trip to the shrink be?? Some mild cursing, nothing y'all ain't heard before.
Oh and by the way, this is all in good fun cause I love Zell!
Disclaimer: These suck. If I never have to write one of these for the rest of my life, I will die a happy girl. But anyways, here's the standard "I don't own FF8 or any of the characters therein, full credit is given to Squaresoft and I'm just a pitiful girl who is inspired by such". The end.
This is great, Zell thought to himself as he strolled down the halls of Balamb Garden. Squall sure is a great Commander, letting me leave training early ever Wednesday afternoon! I must really be doing a good job. So much so that he feels I need special treatment! Yeah, that's what he called it right? Man, I just hope the other SeeD's don't find out about this! It might make them jealous, and just cause I'm better than them, I don't need to get an ego!
Ah, was Zell ever wrong about himself this fine Wednesday afternoon. Perhaps at the fault of Squall, who insisted upon telling Zell he needed 'special treatment'. For logical, diligent, hard-working Squall, those words clearly sent out the vibe you really need help man! But for Zell, who was convinced that he was one of the Garden's most respected and talented SeeD's, it took on an entirely new meaning.
Maybe it's a special class for advanced fighters like myself? Zell wondered, picking up his pace slightly, a swank in his step. Or maybe it's a cooking class! Y'know, I've always wanted to take a foods lab…
The thought occurred to Zell that perhaps he should check his destination on the slip that Squall had given him. He reached a gloved hand into his pocket and fished around, retrieving a half-eaten hot dog, two chewed up pencils, and several balls of lint before finding the blue strip of paper. He unfolded it, smoothed it out, and struggling to read the fine cursive.
Zell to see Dr. Kadowaki every Wednesday from 1:00 to 2:30pm.
Dr Kadowaki? His brain fumbled to grasp the concept. Uh oh, is this a physical? I really hate those! Hm, maybe Dr. Kadowaki needs extra help at the infirmary? With my amazing skills and precision abilities, it wouldn't surprise me if that's what I'm going to be doing! Remember Zell, keep a good head on your shoulders. Can't go gloating like a pompous jackass. He snickered. Like Seifer.
He headed down the infirmary hall, shouting greetings to fellow students and neglecting to watch where he was walking. The miriad of junior cadets dodging him to avoid collision was certainly no clue to him either. It was part of Zell's endearing charm, his ability to be completely dumbfounded and oblivious. Or to some, it was his curse, the walking firecracker with a short fuse who was ignorant to his surroundings. Either way you looked at it, he was a lovable guy.
Until you pissed him off.
But let's not get into details there.
He stopped at the infirmary door and noticed the sign on the door that read: Out on break. Please go to room E-61. - Dr. Kadowaki. Zell shrugged, more fruitless ideas popping into his head. Maybe I get to go on break too? Ooh! That would be so cool! I'll bet they have their own personal hot dog stash in the faculty lounge! Sweet!
Poor Zell, always setting himself up for disappointment.
He continued down the hall a ways, stopping at room E-61. There was a colorful sign on the door that read: Friendship Club. Little smilies and hearts were drawn in crayon around the bubble letters. I get it. They put a daycare center in Garden and they want me to be the primary caregiver cause of my charming way with kids! Damn, I'm good.
He opened the door. Dr. Kadowaki was sitting in a comfy arm chair, her legs crossed and a drab expression making its way across her features. Zell took note of the plush chairs and couches, and a box full of crayons and coloring books in the center of the room. Kiddie sing-alongs wafted from the small, rainbow-colored stereo and a toy chest was located snugly in the corner of the room. And three faces stared back at him like he was a Carebear on crack.
"Hello Zell," Dr. Kadowaki greeted, motioning him o sit down. "And welcome to Anger Management."
"What the hell is this shit?!" Zell yelled, apparently outraged.
"Well, Mr. Dincht," Kadowaki informed in the most professional, monotone voice she could muster. "You were recommended here by some… friends who suggested you might have a bit of a violent temper and -"
"I DON'T HAVE A VIOLENT GODDAMN TEMPER!" he roared, slamming his fist into a picture of Mickey Mouse, successfully tearing the cartoon rodent a new hole, so to speak.
"Why don't you have a seat Zell."
He kicked at the floor and plopped down in a huff, arms folded defiantly across his chest as the La-Z Boy threatened to swallow him up.
"Now that everyone is here, let's begin by introducing ourselves and explaining what makes us angry."
A girl with a blond ponytail began, toying with a teddy bear that had been placed precariously next to her chair.
"Well, my name's Kalilia and it makes me so mad when my friend Allison goes and talks about me behind my back. I mean, isn't that so rude? I swear, just because she has low self esteem doesn't mean she has to bash me. I can't help it that I have better legs than she does! Or that I'm prettier and more popular than she is! I mean gawd, she needs to take a look in that damn mirror before she says anything about me! It's a privilege I let her be seen with me in public! Like, she was the one that spread the rumor about me and Tommy Mason you know? Eeyagh! I could so just KILL her right now!"
Kalilia emphasized her point by stabbing her stuffed animal in the chest with her eyeliner.
She does have nice legs, Zell thought.
"Thank you Kalina."
"Kalilia."
"Whatever. Next?"
A skinny boy with a pasty complexion and bewildered eyes looked around suspiciously before beginning.
"My name is Edward." His voice was high-pitched and rather effeminate. "I get really upset when the upper classmen beat me up and take me money. I just get these… these violent urges." He twitched at the word 'urges'.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Edward. And now who do we have?" she asked, looking towards Zell.
"But you know my name already Dr. Kadowaki."
"Yes Zell, but Edward and Kalilia don't."
"They do now."
The doctor sighed, putting her head in the hands and rubbing her temples.
Why the hell did they choose me to front this session? I'm a medical physician not a psychiatrist. I don't know the first damn thing about rage disorders except that if this isn't over soon I may develop one!
"Alright Zell, fair enough. Why don't you tell us what makes you angry?"
"I don't get angry."
"Yes you do."
"I do not."
"If you didn't get angry you wouldn't be here."
"And if Garden had more funding, you wouldn't be here either."
"You're being immature."
"And you're being a nag."
"You're a very angry young man."
"I am not."
"Yes you are."
"I DON'T FUCKING GET ANGRY!"
Edward coughed timidly and spoke up. "Do you get angry when people accuse you of being angry?"
"SHUT UP!"
Edward twitched.
Thirty minutes had passed, thirty long, strenuous minutes, and Dr. Kadowaki was sitting on the floor, performing some spiritual yoga ritual. Zell thought it would be funny to steal her meditation beads and use them to make a noose for the Lambchop doll that Kalilia was playing with. The 'anger management' patrons were given free time because of Dr. Kadowaki's considerable migraine, and they sat on the floor with a box of toys.
This is so degrading, Zell thought bitterly, burying Edward in a well-constructed Lego coffin. Playing with little kid toys while I should be out on the field training with my unit. Son of a bitch. They don't even have any cool action figures. Zell thought he heard Edward whimper in protest, but it didn't matter much. That's what he got for sounding like a damn girl. Once Edward was completely entombed, Zell wandered over to Kalilia, who seemed to be engrossed in her activity.
"What're you doing?" Zell blurted out, watching the little blond pluck the plastic eyeballs out of stuffed animals. Her pile of blind little toys glowered at him with hollow, empty stares. It was like looking into a black soul, an impenetrable void that could not be filled. Either that or one of those creepy Egyptian paintings with those guys that wore deer skulls on their heads and danced around in skirts.
"I'm giving them a makeover!" she replied, disgusted with his ignorance. "These eyes are sooo ugly! I mean come on, who's eyes are completely black? That's so yucky. They need color contacts or something."
Edward idly kicked at his lego prison of doom, a deep growl rising in his throat.
The hour and a half session was almost out, and Squall was waiting patiently outside the door, Rinoa latched onto his arm.
"How d'you think he's doing?" Rinoa questioned, peering through the glass to get a better look at Zell.
"I dunno. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this. It might make him even angrier."
"My God, what is he doing?" she pointed, and Squall followed her finger.
Zell was sprawled out on the floor like a monkey, a small boy standing over him saying, "I told you not to make me angry!"
*the end*
Yeah, I know, corny ending right? I couldn't think of anything better, sorry. Oh, and I don't think this is REALLY what anger management counseling is all about, but I thought it would be interesting to put Zell in this situation. Hehehe J