Welcome, readers! You have entered the domain of ridiculousness, insanity, and hilarity. I've taken it upon myself to write about the insanities of video games, books, television shows, movies, and anything else I choose to make fun of. Every chapter will have something new so just enjoy the ride. By the way, it should be noted that the place this story takes place is on the side of a dirt road, miles away from civilization.
Psychological Help
I took a step back, admiring my work. Before me stood a stand that looked vaguely like those childish lemonade stands. However, it was more reminiscent of Lucy's "Psychiatric Help" stands from "Peanuts." Unlike Lucy, I actually had a degree in psychology, and I'm going to charge more than five cents or whatever she charged. So, I'll be more credible and soon to roll around in a pile of cash. Take that, Lucy!
I sat down on my chair behind the stand, taking out an "Open" sign to show any passersby that I'm available and ready to get down to business. Hm, that sounded rather perverted… Anyway, I also took out my framed bachelor's degree on psychology, evidence that I really am the real thing. I mentally smiled at the thought of being filthy rich just by helping out others' problems. All the laborious work I did for building this stand will be so worth it.
I waited… And waited. I leaned back in the chair, wondering when my first client will show up. Not that I take appointments, mind you. I designed this business to be immediate, available at almost any time of day. Unless, I'm not here. I continued to wait, growing more impatient by every passing second. I looked at my cell phone, checking the time. Only three freaking minutes went by! Jesus, how long is this going to take? I thought this world and all the people on it had numerous problems, hoping for someone to come along and make it all better for them. But, since there aren't that many miracle workers, they settle for a little help from doctors, who will help them with physical and/or mental problems.
Five minutes went on by, and I was ready to get up and leave. However, it seemed that luck was on my side. A group of three people were walking towards my stand. There were two males and one female. One man was kind of on the big side, bald, and he was walking with his eyes closed. How the hell can he see? I mean, this guy was walking like no big deal! He happened to be wearing a white shirt and brown pants, and I think those are tusks near his mouth. Or, is it some kind of new piercing? The girl had dark blonde hair, also wearing a white shirt and brown capris. Her eyes were green and she wasn't wearing any shoes.
If they were asking business from me, they should be grateful I don't have that "No shirt, no shoes, no service" thing like restaurants have. I can't help thinking that the girl might be here to ask help from me, since she obviously doesn't have the mentality to understand the importance of shoes. The last male member of the group was wearing all green that consisted of a pointy hat and something I believe to be a man dress. He had a sword and shield on his back, which was weird given the modern times. His hair was dirty blonde and had elf-like ears that were pierced with silver earrings. He wore brown boots and, well, beige tights. He's either a walking fashion disaster or something else entirely, which I'm already getting some kind of idea.
"Hello, are you the owner of this stand," asked the girl, politely.
"Yeps, I'm none other than Moonlight. What can I help you with," I asked with a smile.
"Glad to meet you. I'm Ilia, and I'm here with my father, Bo, and my friend, Link."
"Um, okay," I said, a little grateful that she gave their names. "But, who is the person in need of my services?"
"That would be Link. My father and I think he needs… A little help."
"For the last time," said, who I presume to be, Link in a very faint voice. "I don't need any help."
"He's in denial," said the large man, Bo. "But everyone in our village agreed to bring him to someone who can help him overcome his setbacks."
"Then, I think I'm the one for you," I said, excitement in my tone. "But, first, I'd like to tell you how much I charge. For the cost of $5000, I will do everything I can to help him. That means that I won't charge you hourly!"
"Well, see," said Ilia, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "We come from a poor village, and we don't have that kind of money."
"So, how much are you willing to pay?"
Bo took out a brown bag and set it on the stand. I looked at them questioningly, and then opened the bag. Inside, there were many colored jewels. Green, blue, yellow, red, and a few purple. I couldn't believe my eyes! One potential client and they're paying me in gems. Talk about lucky!
"Wow," was all I could say.
"That's the money everyone back home pitched in for Link. That's 350 rupees," said Ilia. "Is that enough?"
"Hell yeah, it is! This is great!"
"So, when can Link receive your help?"
"Immediately, if you want. I'd like to ask, though, what are his symptoms and such?"
"Well," began Ilia, in a thoughtful tone. "He doesn't talk much, and when he does, it's always in a low tone that you can barely hear him. I've caught him talking to his shadow a couple times. He's terrified of the full moon, which is odd. The strangest is that he's also scared of chickens, and he sometimes mercilessly beats them up."
"Amazing," I said. "There's a lot of work I must do. Well, you can leave him in my hands. You have to leave, but you can pick him up later. Link, your therapy begins now!"
Bo and Ilia walked away, and I took out another chair and set it in front of my stand. Link sat on it, and looked at me blankly. I took out a small notebook, writing down the first disorder I'm sure he has.
"Let's start off with the first obvious problem: Your inability to speak."
"I can speak just fine," he said, again in a low voice.
"No, see, you have something known as selective mutism. Due to certain anxieties, you choose to be mute at certain times. When you do actually speak, it's sometimes in a faint tone. Now, what is it that you're afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything. I have the Triforce of Courage!"
"Whatever you say… So, if you have no fears like you so claim, why do you choose to be mute?"
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"You mean that tree fort thing?"
"It's called the Triforce. I have the mark on my hand," he said faintly, taking off his left glove and showing a strange triangle mark on his hand.
"Anyway, what reasons do you have for being mute?"
He grew silent, which was all the luck I needed. Knowing that he won't speak on this matter, I decided to change the topic, hoping it will bring some progress.
"What's this strange tendency of talking to your shadow," I asked him, praying to whatever divine power that he will talk about this. I wrote down "possible schizophrenia" on my notebook.
"There used to be someone in my shadow," he said. "She was annoying, at first, but she became a good friend. I miss her."
I then added "grieving the loss of a friend. May have depression" to my list. Jeez, he needs to get over it.
"But, she's not in your shadow, anymore. Why do you talk to it when there's no one there?"
"It makes me feel less lonely. And I think it's better to think she's still there than not at all."
"Okay," I said loudly. "Moving on to another topic: Why are you terrified of the full moon?"
"I've had a lot of nightmares that involve the moon. I'm in a town and there's this giant moon in the sky. It has a face and looks really evil and scary. Then, it slowly moves closer to the town, threatening to crush everything below it. In every nightmare, I'm given tasks that have to be done in three days, or the moon will crash into the town. Three days, three days!"
Wow, talk about crazy. I added "paranoia" to the list. This guy has quite the psyche. I have yet to unravel the mystery of the next perplexing disorder he may have, which I'm not so sure of.
"And," I began, getting his attention. "Why are you afraid of chickens?"
"They're unstoppable- no, indestructible. There's no way of killing them."
Is he serious? How in the world are chickens "indestructible?" People kill them every day to make food. Just ask KFC and they'll tell you exactly how they kill the chickens and cook them up. Good, old fashioned fried chicken or juicy, grilled chicken. Ugh, I'm making myself hungry. I snapped out of my food daydream and wrote "poultrophobia?" to my list.
"You do realize that many people eat chicken, right," I asked Link.
"These chickens aren't normal. You can't kill them or even eat them. When you try, they attack you ruthlessly."
"Speaking of which, why is that you abuse chickens? You can be arrested for animal abuse, you know."
"The chickens I know are evil. I sometimes fight them so that I can figure out a way of ultimately destroying them. But, it doesn't always work and they try to kill me instead."
"They try to kill you?"
"Yes, they try to peck your eyes out, and tear your flesh while scratching every part of your body. It's horrible."
I underlined "paranoia" and "possible schizophrenia." I have never met a person who believed these delicious, almost always cowardly animals to be evil. Really, what this guy is talking about sounds like something from that story "The Birds," where all the birds go crazy and try to kill every person they see. The birds in that story where seagulls, sparrows, hawks, parrots, canaries, and a lot of others. But I don't remember it mentioning anything about chickens. Maybe because it sounds kind of stupid, which I'm starting to believe Link may also suffer from stupidity.
Suddenly, by some twisted, horrible fate, a white chicken walked by, casually scratching and pecking at the ground. Link immediately got up, taking out his sword. The chicken looked up, and I sensed an incoming doom to the chicken. I watched helplessly as Link swung his sword at the chicken, feathers flying out with every strike. I could stop him, but it's best to stay away from an insane person swinging a sword. Also, for some strange reason, the chicken didn't seem to be harmed by Link. I can see Link slicing it but it wasn't harmed in the way one expects a chicken being sliced should be harmed. Instead, the chicken let out a high-pitched cluck with the attacks, flapping its wings to get away but unable to.
On a particular strike, all hell broke loose. You'll understand what I mean soon. The chicken stopped trying to escape and glared at Link. Its white eyes and feathers changed into a furious red color. It went on the offensive, trying to peck and scratch at Link, who leisurely kept it away by using his shield.
"Hey," I yelled at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing beating up that animal?"
"Are you blind," he asked me. "This chicken is one of them! Did you see how it changed colors?"
"So, it might be a demonic or satanic chicken. Whatever! That's no reason for you to abuse it!"
Before he could say a comeback, there was a strange flapping sound in the air. I saw Link look somewhere behind me, his eyes widening in horror. I knew that I shouldn't look, and just get the hell out of there, but I couldn't help but look. In the distance, slowly making its way here was a cloud of flying chickens. Yeah, that's right, flying chickens. This reminded me of that movie "Chicken Run," where the chickens are doing all they can to learn to fly so they can escape from their tyrannical farm. Unlike "Chicken Run," these chickens had actually learned to fly like all other birds, and they had a more malicious intent.
"Oh, my God," I said, staring at the mass of chickeny evil.
"Run," yelled Link, which surprised me. We both high-tailed it out of there, running as fast as we could to escape our imminent poultry fate. I looked back and saw that the chicken cloud was advancing towards us, getting closer with each second.
"Look! They're getting closer," I yelled at Link. He ignored me, focusing instead on running.
"Is there any way of stopping them," I asked him, hoping that there was some way of pacifying the violent creatures. Again, he ignored me.
"Hey! Did you hear what I said? How do we stop them," I asked again, to no avail. "Hello? Are you listening? Hey! Listen!"
What I just said seemed to strike a chord… A very bad chord. Link gave me a strange look, and drew out his sword. He then swung it at me, and I knew that I was in deep shit. I not only had a cloud of chickens descending upon me, but I had a crazy swordsman who probably just snapped on me.
"Shut up," he yelled at me, swinging his sword wildly at me, which I barely manage to evade.
"Watch out," I yelled back, seeing the chicken cloud descend.
At that moment, the chickens were all around us, flying this way and that. I couldn't see with all the chicken bodies and feathers everywhere, which worried me of how close Link might be. As the flock of chickens thickened, I figured I should accept my fate. I never once thought I would be killed by a flock of demon chickens. Who would? Just when I thought that my death was near, I noticed that the chickens weren't attacking me. Confused, I looked at the mass of chickens, wondering where Link was. Then, it all clicked. The reason why they weren't attacking me and Link hadn't killed me yet was because the chickens were trying to kill him.
I escaped from the chickens, watching as they killed Link, not that I could see him being killed. I just figure that he's being killed because there's a whole mess of chickens and I have no idea where he is. The chickens then gathered and ran off together, a huge chicken army moving together to kill whoever makes the mistake of abusing their kind. I saw Link's body lying motionless on the ground. I slowly walked towards it, until I stood above it. Grabbing a nearby stick, I poked him carefully in the chest with it. There was no movement. I watched him to see if I can catch him breathing. No breathing, either.
What a way to go. Death by chickens. This will be very humiliating and hilarious in an obituary and at a funeral. I then caught the movement of something. A ball of light with wings flew out of Link's pocket, flying around him before disappearing in a dull flash of light. What the hell was that and why did he have it in his pocket? Link's eyes opened and he stood up, looking kind of dazed.
"Are you okay," I asked him. I had no idea how wrong I was…
~~Two Days Later~~
I walked down a hallway until I found the room I was looking for. Before it stood a doctor, and a few residents of Link's village.
"How is he," I asked the doctor. He shook his head slowly, and I looked in the small window of the door to the room. Inside, Link was crouched in the corner of the padded room, "Hey!" and "Listen!" scribbled all over the walls. It's impressive of him to be able to write on those kinds of walls.
"I take it he is no longer my client," I said to the doctor.
"You were supposed to help him," yelled an angry Ilia. "Not make him worse! We want our money back!"
"Sorry," I said, running from the group. "I don't give refunds!"
I ran out of the asylum and made my way home. I walked through the door, glad that I was able to weasel myself out of that situation. I couldn't help a client but I got their money. If that's not a job well done, I don't know what is. I smelled a familiar scent in the air and followed it to the dining room. My mother and brother were sitting together at the table, eating dinner.
"Wow, just in time for dinner," said my mom. "I went out and bought some KFC. I'll serve you a plate, if you want."
"No, thanks," I said, walking to my room. "I'm not hungry."
"C'mon, you know you want some," she tempted me.
I gave in, sitting with the rest of my family. I served myself macaroni and cheese, potato wedges, biscuits, and some mashed potatoes.
"Don't you want any chicken," asked my mom.
"No, I'm not in the mood for chicken," I replied.
"It's not like it's going to kill you if you ate some."
If chicken doesn't kill me by salmonella, it'll kill me in another way.
Moral: Don't count your chickens before they hatch!
Well, there's the first chapter. "VG Cats" by Scott Ramsoomair provided inspiration. It's a comic that makes fun of video games, which I love. There's a comic that has one of the main characters, Aeris, giving psychological help to video game characters, one of which is Link. However, she's kind of bad at it. Feel free to look at the comics, especially if you're a gamer. I'm sure you'll like them.
"Happy Tree Friends and Friends" also gave me small inspiration, which is to add a small moral at the end of every chapter. You can see some videos of it on YouTube, but be warned! Despite how cuddly cute it looks, it's very gory.
I can't help but think that I came up with a new medical term: Poultrophobia—the fear of chickens! It should be known that I'm NOT a psychologist, but I aspire to be one. I have a long way to go before then. Anyway, being that this is fanfiction, I MUST say this: I do not own any of the games, books, movies, television shows, or anything else I parody.
So, feel free to review. It'll motivate me more if you do review. The next chapter will make fun of Okami, my favorite game, as well as a few other things. Also, if you, my readers, ask that I parody something else, I'll write it, depending on how many people are asking.