GANDALF: THE MENTAL THERAPIST:

APPOINTMENT THREE:

SHELOB'S HOBBITOPHOBIA

Gandalf looked over his papers for the day as he waited for the next patient to arrive. A creak at the door alerted him to her arrival.

"Ah, Shelob, please, lie down, with your new handicap, your second trip here must have been very painful," Gandalf said, motioning to the couch.

She sat down on the couch, on her stomach.

"I see you still don't like having your belly exposed, but you must admit you had your new physical problems coming to you."

"Tick, tick, tick," She replied.

"Well, there's no need to get snippy with me, I'm only here to help," Gandalf said.

Shelob ticked something rude about hobbits being placed in the office to scare her.

"What was that," Gandalf asked.

"Tick (Nothing)," Shelob replied.

"Well, I've put the results I saw here yesterday to much consideration, and came to a conclusion. You have hobbitophobia," Gandalf said, "Its quite common with the servants of Morgoth to fear the Halfings. They are a stout bunch."

"Tickity-tick, tickin'," She said, grumpily.

"Now, don't be that way," Gandalf said, "All you have to do is confront your fears and you'll be just fine. In fact, I've brought someone here to help with that. He's very much willing to see you again."

Gandalf turned to the closet door, "Sam."

Samwise Gamgee stepped out of the door, Sting and the Galadriel' Light both ready for action.

"Remember me," Sam asked.

"AAAAAAAAURGH," Shelob roared and crashed through the wall to escape.

"Grace," Gandalf said over the speaker-phone, "Make a demo, the wall needs repairing."

"Sorry, I just trying to help," Sam said.

"You can't help me anymore, Sam," Gandalf said, "Go home."

"You don't mean that," Sam sobbed.

Next Appointment: Sam's Manic Depression.