Wealthy Philanthropist, J. Worthington III was found face down in his tomato soup. Was it natural causes? Or was it because he was about to write J. Worthington IV out of his will?
"Calvin!"
Calvin poked his head out from the tomato soup he was in.
"So much for that one food that Calvin can't play with," Mom sighed.
Calvin rolled his eyes. No one appreciates imagination anymore.
"You're going to sit here until you finish your soup," Dad ordered.
They put their bowls in the sink and left.
Calvin immediately dove down into the soup.
It was then that Hobbes entered the house with a camera around his neck.
"I'm back from bird watching, to anyone who cares," Hobbes called.
He found Calvin face down in his soup.
"Did you write J. Worthington IV out of your will?" he asked.
Calvin, the world famous tomato soup diver, scours the murky depths in search of the elusive tomato guppy, Calvin thought.
He popped up and saw Hobbes. He grabbed the camera.
"QUICK! GIMME THAT CAMERA!"
He yanked the camera down into the soup, pulling Hobbes down and smacking his face into the table.
For the first time in history the spawning habits of the tomato guppy are captured on film.
Hobbes yanked himself up, also yanking up the camera, which smacked Calvin in his eye.
"We must do something about you," Hobbes sighed, rubbing his nose.
"Whatever," Calvin said. "Would you like some tomato soup?"
"You didn't open your mouth down there, did you?"
"No."
"Okay."
Hobbes sat down in the chair and started to eat the soup while Calvin got up to the refrigerator.
"Hmm, nice soup," Hobbes said. "But then again, I wouldn't eat it if it were mean."
"Whatever. I'm helping myself to some pie."
He cut himself a piece and opened his mouth.
"CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! THERE'S A BLACK HOLE AHEAD! WE CAN'T TURN AROUND! THE GRAVITATIONAL PULL IS TOO GREAT! ARRRRRRGH!"
He ate the pie.
"They just went where no man has gone before," Calvin said, swallowing.
Hobbes slurped down the soup and then grabbed some pie.
"I still can't believe no one agrees with me. That thing could've been anything! Even a space ship! I'll bet it was! Aliens are invading and we're all doomed."
"Maybe it was a government plane."
"Oh, come on. You've got to believe me a little bit."
"Calvin, even you don't know if you believe you."
"I know, but you have to at least have faith in my theory."
"I don't see why. You usually think up a lot of crazy things that only turn out to be untrue."
"Like what?"
"Well, you did once think your parents were aliens."
"Read my school poem. You'll get what I mean. Besides, we're not having any fun! We're practically just sitting around. We just throw water balloons everyone we know. I can't believe how stupid this summer vacation has gotten. We need more fun to meet the status quo."
"Calvin, get in here!" Dad shouted.
Calvin groaned and walked into the living room.
"What?" he asked.
"Calvin, we need to talk about you about you and your active imagination."
"Excuse me?"
"We're concerned about your recent behavior this summer," Mom said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, over the summer, you've been talking about some crazy things, and we're worried that you have a mental problem. You might have a problem with your brain."
Calvin was steamed. "Why, I've never been so insulted in all my life! I'm a genius! It's your brains that have the problem!"
"We're signing you up for psychiatric help," Dad continued, ignoring him. "You're going to a pshcyatrist the day before we leave for our camping trip."
"Meaning tomorrow," added Mom.
"Oh, you all think I'm crazy!" Calvin shouted. "I don't believe this. You all are just plain ignorant."
"Go to your room. We'll talk more tomorrow."
"Pah!" Calvin snorted. "I was heading there anyway. Come on, Hobbes."
He walked upstairs.
Mom rolled her eyes, and they resumed reading.
Hobbes walked past them and went upstairs.
"Going to a shrink tomorrow, huh? You poor man."
"This is going to be worse than going to the doctor's office! I can't believe Mom and Dad would do this to me!"
"Well, they just don't understand the concept of aliens. Maybe you just shouldn't get crazy about aliens and such. People who don't work with the government just don't believe."
Calvin grunted and dove under the covers for bed. Hobbes joined him.
"I must make a note to hate tomorrow."
Early the next morning, Calvin was sitting angrily in the backseat of the car. Hobbes was sitting next to him, not saying a word, fearing he'd trigger Calvin off again. Already today, by just saying good morning to him, Calvin had yelled something that involved a trash compacter, a pair of scissors and the number two.
"Calvin, I just want you to know that we're doing this for your own good," Dad said.
"We don't want you to have a deficient mind," Mom added.
Calvin didn't reply. He was in the so-called deficient mind.
Intrepid space-explorer, Spaceman Spiff, is being taken to a Plaintiffian Brain-Tap Industry to have his brain tapped upon. His mind races furiously to figure out how to elude his capturers, who are Plaintiffians, by the way. Our hero examines the spaceship.
Calvin quickly started to roll down his window. He took an iron pole that was conveniently in his seat, and he slowly started to slip it out the window.
Our hero takes an old iron piece and attempts to jam it under his ship's hover mechanism to break it off.
Calvin was trying to break a hubcap off of the wheel.
Hobbes simply covered his head, hoping this would end soon.
Spiff manages to feel onto the mechanism, and starts to pry with all his might.
It was at that moment that Dad looked into the rearview mirror. "HOLY COW, CAVLIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Zounds! The Plaintiffians have spotted him! Spiff, ignoring the fact that he's several miles above the planet, makes a daring jump.
Calvin dropped the iron pole, which clanged against the car, scratching the paint, and Calvin climbed out the window and landed in the ditch. He didn't care if Hobbes followed him. He just wanted to get far away from there. He quickly scrambled up the slope above the ditch.
The car screeched to a halt. Mom quickly jumped out.
"CALVIN! GET BACK HERE!"
With one last ditch-effort, pardon the pun, our hero takes out his blaster and fires repeatedly at the aliens.
Calvin picked up trash that had been littered and hurled it at her.
"Get back here!" Mom shouted.
Finally, Mom managed to grab Calvin, and she jammed him into the seat and put the seatbelt on hard.
"You're grounded," Dad said angrily. "When we get to the campsite, you can't leave the tent."
"YAY!" Calvin cheered.
Dad groaned and continued on.
Once in the building, Calvin and Hobbes followed his parents into a waiting room.
While Mom and Dad signed him in, Calvin's mind started to wander.
Recaptured by the Plaintiffians, Spaceman Spiff finds himself trapped in the alien prison, awaiting the brain tapper. With the exception of his sidekick, Spaceman Mort, the room is filled with ugly, smelly aliens and their space prisoners.
A weird-looking man stepped out from his office.
"I'm ready to see Calvin," he said to Mom and Dad.
Calvin looked up and saw the man. He had round glasses, a small mustache, slicked back black hair and was wearing a tailored suit.
It appears that Spiff won't have time to escape. Instead, he'll have to go into battle with this tough alien.
Hobbes noticed that look on Calvin's face, and before he could stop him, Calvin jumped up and leaped onto the man's head!
"Surrender, alien menace! Either that, or eat subatomic blasts!" He held up his dart gun. "I'd prefer it if you chose the blasting one. It's more entertaining."
Everyone ignored him.
"CALVIN!" Mom shouted.
"No, no. It's all right," said the pshcyatrist, waving his hand. "All of my patients are prone to reacting like this when they first come to see me. I'm used to it."
It was then that Calvin finally realized where he was. Everything went from scary dungeon to waiting room.
"Why is your hair wet?" he asked. "Did the sprinklers go off in there or something?"
"Come with me, Calvin. I am Dr. Griffin."
Calvin got off of Dr. Griffin's head and went to get Hobbes, but Dr. Griffin stopped him.
"This is just for you, Calvin. Your tiger can wait here. I'll test him another day."
"Oh, okay," Calvin said. "Don't worry, Hobbes. I'll tell you all about it when I get back."
He walked in with Dr. Griffin right behind him.
Calvin entered Dr. Griffin's office. He was impressed. There was the classic couch with the chair next to it. There were several things placed around them, including a desk with a flat screen computer, several intergalactic paintings and a dead plant in the corner.
"Nice pad," Calvin commented.
"Please, have a seat on the couch," Dr. Griffin said, motioning toward the couch.
Calvin hopped onto the couch.
"Now then, let's begin with the problem."
"What problem?" Calvin asked.
"Your parents tell me that something may be mentally wrong with you."
"What do you mean, mentally?"
"Mental means that—"
"I know what mental means," Calvin said angrily. "I mean, what do you mean by problem?"
"Well, according to your parents, your brain might have a problem. They claim that you think stuffed animals are alive, you sometimes think you're a space explorer, you constantly cause certain problems due to your imagination…"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Calvin interrupted. "What do you mean by stuffed animals? I don't even own a stuffed animal."
"What about that tiger I saw in the waiting room?"
"Who, Hobbes? He's my best friend!"
"But he's a stuffed animal."
"Oh, well, that's a common misapprehension. You see, Mom and Dad call him that because when I caught Hobbes, Dad told me to stuff him."
Dr. Griffin rolled his eyes and decided to skip ahead.
"Alrighty, let's try a simple exercise: I want you to close your eyes."
Calvin shut his eyes.
"Now tell me what you see?"
"I see a mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex stomping madly through the prehistoric landscape," Calvin replied. "He sees a Diplodocus, named after the fact that they are dippy. He goes in for the kill. He pounces and—"
"Okay, okay. That's enough," Dr. Griffin said quickly.
Calvin opened his eyes. "Hey, come on! I was just getting to the good part!"
"I've got all the data I need, thank you."
Calvin found it odd that he'd said 'data' rather than 'information', but decided they meant the same thing.
"Now then, we need try an inkblot exercise," Dr. Griffin went on.
Calvin sat up on the couch and looked at some pictures that were being held up.
"What do you see in these pictures?" he asked.
"I see Stupendous Man flying around the Earth in his mask and cape."
The next picture.
"I see crack-investigative detective, Tracer Bullet, firing his .48 at the criminal mastermind."
Flip.
"I see the intrepid Spaceman Spiff fighting off the Zogworgs in his battle-cruiser."
Flip.
"I see that T Rex again."
Flip.
"I see a water balloon coming in contact with Susie Derkin's noggin!"
"Okay, that was strange," said Dr. Griffin, putting the pictures away. He wrote some stuff down in his notepad.
"What was strange about it?"
"Never mind. Let's move on."
He took a pack of something out of his pocket.
"I have some worded cards here. I want you to arrange them in any order you choose."
"Okay."
Calvin was handed the cards. He got down on his hands and knees and began to lay them out.
After ten minutes of work on the floor, he finally said, "I'm finished."
Dr. Griffin got up and started writing what Calvin had laid out.
"'The mighty Stupendous Man flew over the Earth and took a lens out over the planet, making the heat from the sun hotter than before, and frying the bad man right on the spot.'"
"My range of vocabulary is better than that, by the way," Calvin said, "but I was working with limited resources."
Dr. Griffin rolled his eyes.
"By the way, would you like me to continue on about the T Rex?"
"No. Get on the couch."
Calvin sighed and did so.
"Okay, I want you to wait here for a brief moment while I discuss something with your parents."
He got up and left.
Calvin looked around the room with great interest.
Once in the hallway where Mom and Dad were waiting, Dr. Griffin spoke to them.
"Well, I now fully understand what you meant by mental problem."
"Yes, you see, we're concerned that this is going to interfere with his life in second grade," Mom explained. "We need to try and wean him away from the tiger. We believe if we do that, the problem might go away, and then he'll do better in second grade."
"I see," said Dr. Griffin. "I may actually be able to get that done faster. We have a new system this week, and if we could set up an appointment later this week, we could…"
"Actually," Dad said, "we're going camping out in the lake downtown this week. Maybe next week?"
"I'm sorry, but the system will only last until Saturday. If you could just cancel a few days of your trip?"
"Hey, I already paid thirty dollars for renting the island out. I'm not going to spend another ten just to cancel a few days of it. We need to go tomorrow."
"I see. Well, I'll see what I can do with him now."
It was then that they heard a loud crash from inside the office.
They opened the door to find Calvin snarling and growling and running around the room, tearing things apart with his teeth.
"ROOAAAAARR!" Calvin shouted.
"CALVIN!" everyone shouted.
Calvin stopped and looked up.
"Oh…Mom and Dad……HI……How long have you…?"