Disclaimer: Fantastic Four and all names, likenesses, etc. belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. I am not making any profit by writing this. This is strictly for your viewing pleasure.

Psychoanalyze This

Johnny sat in a chair in the waiting room of a therapist's office. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time. It read 3:10 p.m. exactly 10 minutes after his scheduled appointment to see a therapist. In spite of the fact that he was late for his appointment, the door to the therapist's office was closed, which could only mean there was still a patient in there. Johnny drummed on the table with his fingers. Fortunately, Johnny was the only person in the waiting room. 'That's a good thing too. Imagine if someone were to see me sitting in the waiting room of a therapist's office. I can just see the headlines now: The Human Torch is clinically insane.' Johnny thought to himself.

The door to the therapist's office suddenly opened, and the patient that was just in there looked positively surprised to see Johnny in the waiting room. His eyes widened with excitement. Johnny had no doubt this guy must be a fan.

"I can't believe this! When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I was going to run into the Human Torch today. I have to get your autograph!" the teenage boy said.

After the boy handed Johnny a scrap of paper and a pen, Johnny autographed the piece of paper and gave it and the pen back to the boy. The boy thanked Johnny and darted out of the office like a bat out of a cave. Once he was outside, he noticed that Johnny had also written a little note beneath his signature. It read 'P.S. Don't you dare tell anybody where you saw me at!'

Back in the therapist's office, Johnny took a seat on the couch. He would have lain down because the couch looked so comfortable, but he really didn't want to be here anymore, so he sat instead. He twiddled his thumbs nervously impatiently waiting for the therapist to start the session or whatever the heck it was called.

"So Mr. Storm, why are you here?"

The therapist was an elderly woman probably in her mid-to-late sixties. She had medium length gray hair that was up in a bun. She wore a pair of bifocals. Her skin looked as white as a sheet. Not to mention that it was incredibly wrinkly. Also, the room reeked with the stench of her perfume. From what Johnny could tell, she must have used over half the bottle on herself. The worst part was that the perfume didn't even smell good—at all.

"Reed made me come."

"Why did he make you come?"

"He's our leader."

"Yes, but why would he feel like you needed to come?"

"Wait a second. Who are we psychoanalyzing here? Me or Reed?"

The therapist couldn't help but snicker at Johnny's comment. Here Johnny was thinking that therapists were supposed to remain professional during their sessions.

"I apologize. What can I help you with?"

"You know what? On second thought, I think I'm just going to go. This is stupid. I shouldn't be here."

Johnny stood up from the couch and made for the door. Upon reaching the doorway, he halted and looked back at the therapist.

"Well, aren't you going to stop me?"

"I have no intention of doing such a thing. I can't help you if you don't want to be helped."

Johnny couldn't shake the feeling that the therapist was challenging him or at least trying to use reverse psychology on him, but he was not about to fall for that.

"So you're saying that there is something wrong with me?"

"I never said that."

"Good, because let me assure you there is nothing, and I mean nothing wrong with me. Okay? Just because I keep picturing my sister in nothing but her bra and panties doesn't mean there is anything wrong with me!"

Johnny noticed that his therapist was smiling triumphantly. 'So much for not falling for the reverse psychology!' Johnny thought to himself.

"Right. Now let's talk about that. When did it start?"

Johnny dragged his feet back over to the couch and flopped down onto it defeated. He took a deep sigh. It was probably too late to back out now.

"It all started during the Brooklyn Bridge incident. Reed asked Sue to turn invisible so she could sneak past the crowd of spectators and find Ben. She did but you could still see her clothes, so Reed had Sue take her clothes off only there was a slight problem. Upon taking her clothes off, Sue wasn't invisible anymore. Once she realized that she was only wearing her bra and panties and everyone could see that, she desperately tried to cover herself up."

"How did that make you feel?"

"I really don't feel comfortable answering that question."

"Mmm-hmm. I see. There's no need to. Your lack of answer is answer enough."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"My guess is that seeing your sister so undressed turned you on. That is why you came to see me because you feel it is wrong of you to be turned on by your sister."

Johnny scoffed, rolled his eyes, and fake laughed.

"Okay. Fine. Yeah, you're right. You're absolutely right."

"Good. Now we're making some progress. The first step towards finding a solution is admitting that you have a problem."

"Well, I don't know if I would have phrased it like that."

The therapist started to feel like the room was starting to get hot. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of her face. Looking at the young man before her, she felt a sudden need to take a cold shower.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Oh really? 'The first step towards finding a solution is admitting that you have a problem.'"

"Hey, I'm the therapist here!"

Johnny couldn't help but crack up at how uncomfortable his therapist now looked. She was completely avoiding making any eye contact with him. She kept fidgeting with the collar of her shirt. Johnny watched as she finally got up and went over to turn on the air conditioner. She then went back to her seat in the chair.

"Back to you, so your sister turns you on. Is that correct?"

"You know, I'm not lying on the floor."

"I know that!"

"Then why are you talking to the floor?"

"Hey, I'm not the one having incestuous thoughts about my sister!"

"Whoa there! Just because I find my sister incredibly attractive er…uh…doesn't mean that I've ever thought about doing her!"

Johnny's therapist got up from her chair, walked over to Johnny, pulled him to his feet with uncanny strength for someone her age, and ushered him out the door quickly shutting the door behind him while saying, "Okay. That's all the time we have for today."

Johnny heard the door lock behind him. His mind was still trying to take in what just happened.

"Hey, what about my session?"

"I'm going to recommend you see another therapist."

A piece of paper was slid under the door. Johnny picked it up and saw that on it was the name and phone number of a therapist—a guy therapist.

The End

Okay, so this for all intents and purposes was originally meant to be a one-shot. I already have three stories started, so the last thing I need is a fourth multi-chapter story that I have to worry about updating. This is set after the first Fantastic Four movie but before Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. This is my attempt at humor, but I don't know how funny others will find it. Let me know what you think in a review. No flames please. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.