Ladies and Gents! I have brought to existence yet another story to the Rise of the Guardians fandom (I should reeeaally get a life)—'cause every fandom needs a therapy fanfic.
Prologue
"This is such an idiotic idea. I can't believe you actually took Jack's suggestion seriously, North!"
"Relax, Pitch, is only test."
"Yeah, 'opefully they won't even see us."
"Uh, 'bout that," scratches neck, "It's a clinic—especially for spirits and mythicals."
"FROST! I WILL PLAGUE YOUR HEAD FOR A MONTH!"
"Calm yourself, Pitch, or we'll let you go first."
"Shut up you flying rainbow!"
Sandy symbols.
"Oh, put a sock in it, little man!"
Sing-song, "You're gonna be first, Pitchy."
"Guardians!"
A moment of silence.
"How about if I go first? As I am your leader?"
. . .
"Yeah, absolutely."
"Khorosho idea, Manny."
"Sure, why not?"
Thumbs up.
"Good luck, MiM."
"Finally you make the right decision, 'old friend'."
To self, 'Why did I choose a bunch of cowards as Guardians again?'
" . . . I'm not a Guardian, by the by."
"Pitch, stay out of my head."
Khorosho: good
