Now calling #5731. Hey, doc, you're up!

Hello. My name is Dr. Sanford Ellicott, M.D. I am the Chief of Staff at the Roosevelt Asylum in Rockfort, Illinois-

Uh, Doc, we've talked about this already. You aren't the chief there any more. In fact, you haven't been for quite some time now…

(the doctor looks down his nose at Olly and silently demands quiet and respect)

As I was saying… while I have worked with patients in varying natures and degrees of psychological troubles, I am particularly interested in anger management. It is perhaps a psychological issue of my own that has led me to this study… I was an unfortunate witness to anger-related violence in my childhood. However, I chose not to remain a victim or stand idly by while others suffered, I made it my life's work to find a way of correcting such violent tendencies.

I devoted my entire education to learning about the mind. My residency was filled with studies and research dealing with the latest advances in psychological therapeutic techniques and exercises. Little did it surprise me when I was hired on at Roosevelt so quickly, and to rise to such a high position came with even less self-doubt.

I settled into my position comfortably, ready to make a real difference in this hostile world. But, soon I realized that my dreams were to be quelled by a system that simply didn't work. Day after day, I would work with my patients and day after day, I saw little to no improvement in their mental health. And even worse, every day brought in new patients that would only be given the same useless treatment.

I fell into a minor depression. I spent more and more time locked in my office, reading articles and studies to try and find something new, something better, something that would work. But, all I found were the same old touchy-feely theories and therapies. They all preached about coddling and relaxation methods. It was all so absurd that I laughed – right there, locked away in my office, I laughed out loud.

I was beginning to have my doubts that these doctors and therapists, men I looked up to for years, had ever been around the sorts of criminal and destructive patients that I saw on a daily basis. If they could only spend one day in my shoes, why, they would certainly give up on their hippie, 'peace, love, and understanding' nonsense. After all, these were not people dealing with headaches and bouts of insomnia due to a little stress. These were angry and aggressive monsters willing to do harm to others or themselves without a second thought!

And that is when I hit upon the theory behind my new study. What does one do when taming a wild beast, a horse for instance? Do they give the animals hugs and tell them to take a few deep breaths? No! The horse needs to be broken!

I knew, with the state of the world in the condition it was, that my ideas would never be appreciated – not until proven anyway. I needed to take certain precautions. After all, I would not let my patients down! My methods might have been experimental, but I was going to make them all better!

But, as the old saying goes, one rotten apple can spoil the whole bunch.

I couldn't be sure who it was, but there was someone – someone who managed to steal a way into the facility. I could never be certain who the perpetrator was, but I always felt the presence of this villain just out of sight. The closer I came to my success, the closer, too, came this unknown assailant. Until one day, it occurred to me why I was being hounded. Someone was out to destroy my work!

I couldn't let that happen! I was too close!

I began to panic and attempted to work faster. I toiled late into the night; soon I wasn't sleeping much at all. I had to push harder and move quicker and…

Then, much to my dismay, bedlam broke out. I can only guess that the same sneak who had been watching me for weeks had been the one to incite the riot. The patients were in a frenzy. All of my work was destroyed! I was destroyed.

For a long time, the asylum remained locked to the outside world. But, just when my hope was nearly gone, I received some new patients. And, they were so young – teenagers! I had prepared to use some of my almost-forgotten tools… but then, I found that I didn't need to. Through my hands, my healing hands, I could carry on my life's work!

I knew I was finally accomplishing something – I had so few new patients that I knew my techniques were working!

One day, I met a young man, Sam. He was a melancholy-looking lad, but at the same time quite angry. He and his brother were having some issues with the world, their father, each other. I felt it best to see them separately. Sam seemed pleased to be getting the help he needed, but that brother of his… Now that young man was going to be difficult.

When I went to meet the older brother, he resisted my help. I attempted to persuade him, but he became rather violent with me…

You see, some people – when they are unwilling to help themselves…

I suppose it is something that all therapists have to accept.

You can't save everyone…