2,496 words
Seymore Schmoedge hesitated on the top step of the large Brownstone mansion. He looked both up and down the street. His gaze shifted towards the front door of the house. There were no lights showing. ‘Maybe no one’s home,’ he whispered to himself, almost as if in relief. He took a deep breath, which seemed to give him just enough resolve. He rang the doorbell and took another deep breath.
“Who is it?” Seymore jumped, nearly tumbling down the steps before recovering enough to peer at the doorway to see where the voice came from. He noticed a small speaker near the doorbell.
“I need to see you. It’s a matter of life or death,” Seymore said.
“Tell me who you are and state your business. I am very busy tonight.”
“Are you the man who put The Death Prophecy Website on the Internet?” Seymore seemed to gain some confidence as he spoke these words.
“Yes, I am the one who originated the idea and the site. However, I don’t run the site anymore,” the voice said gruffly. “Why do you ask?” a touch of curiosity eased the gruffness out of the voice.
“I need to see you. You are the only one who can deal with my problem. I must see you.”
“Look,” the voice continued, “write me a letter. I really am too busy to see anyone tonight.”
“What I need done can’t be done by a letter. You have a responsibility. It is your website. It was your idea. You are the only one who can do what needs to be done. It needs to be done tonight. It will only take a few moments of your time. I promise.”
“Hmm. Okay, since you promise to be brief. Get ready to open the door when you hear the buzzer. Stand just inside. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes.”
Seymore opened the door as the buzzer sounded and stepped into the entry hall. He quickly checked something in his overcoat pocket.
A door down the long entry hall opened and a tall, well-dressed man stepped out into the large foyer. Seymore recognized him as the man who was on the Lannie Kling Show: Dr. Occam Razzor.
“Come into my study.” The doctor beckoned and disappeared into a room.
Seymore slowly approached. He peered cautiously in. What he saw was a large room. There were several chairs. Dr. Razzor walked to the far end of the room and sat behind an oversized desk.
“Close the door and sit down. This chair will do nicely.” Dr. Razzor pointed to an armchair in front of his desk.
“I don’t have time to sit,” Seymore said.
“Very well. First, who are you? What is your name? What is it you want to see me about?” Dr. Razzor fired the questions too rapidly for Seymore to answer and, as he spoke, the doctor tapped a pencil just as rapidly on the desktop.
Seymore cleared his throat once, twice. “You must lift the curse. Now! Tonight! I don’t want to die! Not at the time your curse has said I will die!”
“Curse? What are you talking about? I know nothing of a curse.”
“I saw you on Lannie Kling’s program. As soon as you said that anyone could go to your website and type in the day, month and year of their birth and find out their death date, I hurried to my computer.”
“Well, yes, that’s the whole idea. Anyone can do it. I don’t see any problem with that. Did you follow the instructions?”
“Yes! I did. I am going to die five years and two months from now! I don’t want to die that soon. You must lift the curse.”
“I don’t understand. Did you listen to the entire program? Didn’t you hear me explain that the site was only a computer game? That the predictions are farces?”
“No! I told you. I went right to my computer.”
“Ah, I see. We can clear this up immediately. All you need to do is carefully watch the entire program. I have the show on a tape. I’ll give you a copy. You can take it home, play it and set your mind completely at ease.”
“No you don’t. You aren’t going to get rid of me that way. First, you remove the curse.” With that Seymore reached in his overcoat pocket and pulled out a pistol. He pointed the gun in the general direction of Dr. Razzor. Seymore’s hand shook.
Almost too calmly, Dr. Razzor inhaled. Then, he exhaled slowly. It was a slow, calming, deep breath. He looked thoughtfully at the pistol and held up his hands about half way. “I say, there’s no need for firearms. I am unarmed as you can see. I mean you no harm. Is this a robbery?”
“I’m no crook. It’s you. You are the sorcerer, witchdoctor, voodoo doctor or something. Whatever kind of evil person it is that casts spells and puts curses on innocent people, like myself. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep for days!”
“I can’t believe my ears. This is not some voodoo jungle. This is the modern world. There are no such things as death curses. Surely you know that.”
“I don’t know nothin’of the sort. All I know is, I’m cursed to die on a date that you decreed through The Death Prophecy website.”
“That’s my point. The site is a hoax.”
“Lift the curse! Now! So I can shoot you and live out my life the way I am supposed to.”
“I wouldn’t pull that trigger, if I were you. First of all, you are wavering that pistol around too much. You probably would shoot your own foot.”
At this, Seymore grabbed the gun with both hands in an effort to steady it and shouted, “Remove the curse!”
“You couldn’t hit me even if you held the gun steady and aimed true. More than likely the bullet would bounce back and hit you.”
“Bounce back? Whadathink you are, Superman?”
“No. What I am is cautious. There is a bulletproof screen between us. You can’t see it because it is clear and the room has special lighting to hide it. I had it installed a couple of years ago after a patient threatened me with a gun, just as you are doing tonight.”
“I don’t see no screen, bulletproof or otherwise.”
“Of course you don’t see it. I explained why you don’t see it. I can’t see it either. What good would it be, if you could see it?” Dr. Razzor spoke with calming confidence.
“Wait! There was no screen there when you walked to your desk,” Seymore said, as if trying to convince himself.
“Oh! Yes! There was!” Dr. Razzor spoke these words slowly and with great emphasis. “Didn’t you see how I walked to the side of the room and then to my desk?” he continued.
“I don’t remember how you got behind the desk.”
“Never-the-less, I did walk around the invisible screen. Once I forgot it was there and got a good smack on the nose for forgetting.”
“If I could see it, I would believe you.”
Dr. Razzor rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Good! Now we are making progress. There is a way that you can see it; do you really want to?”
“’Course I do. I just told you.”
“Look, you haven’t even told me your name. Somehow, in the haste, we got beyond that. What is your name?”
“None of your business. This ain’t no social call. Remove the curse so I can get back home. Mommy worries if I stay out too late.”
“There is no curse. Can’t you get that through your head.” Dr. Razzor started to rise to his feet. That caused Seymore to bring the gun barrel up. The doctor sat back down.”
“I still say there is no screen. I say it’s bull.”
“On the contrary. It is not bull. The special lighting that is hiding the screen from your eyes can be changed. It’s very simple. See those switches on the wall near your right hand.”
“Yeah, I see them. They don’t look special to me.”
“Oh, they look very ordinary. On that we can agree. It’s not how they look that makes them different; it’s what they do that is special. Listen carefully.”
“No funny stuff, I said, and I meant it.”
“I can see that you mean business. Here’s what you must do and you must do it exactly as I explain it. Otherwise, the lights will instantly adjust and you still won’t be able to see the screen.”
“WhadIdo?”“Put one of your fingers on each switch. Then push both down at the same time.”
Seymore placed a finger on each of the switches.
“Remember, it must be simultaneous. Electricity is instantaneous. If you do it wrong, you still won’t be able to see the screen. The lights will readjust too fast for your eyes. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready. This better work.”
“Oh, it will work. We’re saving both your life and mine here. Isn’t that worth something?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Here goes.”
“Wait. Let me count. Do it on the count of three. One. Two. Three!”
Seymore clicked the switches and the room was plunged into total darkness. Seymore howled. There was a scuffling sound and a loud thud. There was a second howl from Seymore.
The lights came on. Seymore was on the floor, rubbing his chin.
Dr. Razzor was standing at the light switches, holding Seymore’s pistol.
Dr. Razzor motioned towards the comfortable chair. “Get up and sit over there in the chair in front of the desk.”
Seymore struggled up, still rubbing his jaw. He sat in the chair.
Dr. Razzor walked back to his desk and sat down.
“Wait a minute!” Seymore screamed. “How could you walk right through that screen when I couldn’t shoot through it?”
“Ah, well, you see, the screen only existed in your mind. I put it there using the powers of suggestion.”
“Whadaya mean? In my mind? Nuthin’s in my mind.”
“That’s not true. There is a great deal going on in your mind. Otherwise you would not have believed that The Death Prophecy was real. Your mind is in turmoil.”
Seymore got up from the chair. As he did so, his voice rose too. “Let’s get back to The Death Prophecy. I want you to lift that death curse. I want to go on living my life as I did before all of this happened to me.”
“Done!” Dr. Razzor waved his hands in the air in a dramatic, sweeping fashion. “The curse is lifted. You have my word that it won’t come back. Moreover, I will do more than give you your life back, I will give you a whole new life!”
“Go on! A new life? What are you, some sort of miracle worker?”
“Sometimes, yes. More often, it is just a matter of understanding the problems and of working out the correct ways of solving those problems. I am a psychiatrist. A rather famous one, if I do say so myself.”
“Arrgh! Another head shrinker! I might have known by all that blather you came up with.”
“Why are you surprised? I covered my career, albeit very briefly, in my interview with Ms Kling. I thought you watched the program.”
I tuned in late. Didn’t pay no attention to anything until you talked about The Death Prophecy. I seen a preview. A “come on” about The Death Prophecy. That’s the only reason I watched.”
“Well, it seems you know something about psychiatrists. Have you been in therapy?”
“Are you kidding? In and out. Dozens of times. Psychologists. Psychiatrists. Groups. Drugs. Electric shock. The whole menagerie. Lot of good it has ever done me. I was obsessive and compulsive before all of it. Still am. Guess I always will be.”
“I see. Briefly, my system of therapy is called Insta-Therapy. To achieve it, I find a way to destroy every psychological pillar that my patients’ mental illnesses rest on. Usually, I do this instantly, or nearly so. Then, the process of rebuilding positive psychological systems for each patient can begin. Hypnosis helps.”
“Sounds like voodoo therapy to me.”
“Even nonsense death prophecies sound like voodoo to you. I can help you whether you believe in my system or not. Not only that, I am going to help you whether you like it or not. Call it self-preservation. I cure you. You leave here a new man. You don’t kill me I don’t kill you. I don’t have to worry about you coming back with a gun and a crazy notion about a curse. Fair enough?”
“If only you could. I’ve been this way most all of my life. You talk like helping me would be a simple thing. It’s too good to be true. Wait a darn minute. If your such a famous and successful shrink, what’re you doing makin’ up fake computer sites?”
“ Money. I have six ex-wives who bleed alimony from me. That site is a cash cow. Now, what is your name?”
“You’re a shrink and you can’t stay married. And I thought I was weird.”
“Enough. Your name!”
“Seymore Schmoedge. Yeah, Schmoedge. Some name, eh? I bin kidded about it all my life. When one of my bosses fired me, he said, ‘You’re one smudge we don’t need around here anymore.’ He was still laughing when I left his office.”
“You are not the only one with an unusual name. My name is Occam Razzor. Do you know who William of Occam was?”
“Nah. Never heard of him.”
“He lived in the 1300s. He formulated a famous scientific principle that is known as Occam’s Razor. Since my family name is Razzor, my father named me Occam.”
“Huh. That’s weirder than my name.”
“Agreed. However, I have found it useful, especially in my profession, to have an unusual name. Now, Seymore, let’s us get down to work.”
Suddenly, the doctor pulled a pistol out of the drawer. He aimed it at Seymore, and he shouted, “I am going to cure you!” He fired the pistol. A loud bang echoed through the room. A cloud of acrid smoke drifted toward the ceiling.
Seymore screamed and fell on the floor.
Dr. Razzor rushed over to Seymore. The doctor grabbed Seymore by the shoulder and, in a loud, steady voice, said, “You are not shot. My pistol was loaded with extra-loud blanks. I just wanted to destroy your psychological equilibrium. You are going to go into a deep, deep hypnotic trance. You will hear nothing but my voice. My voice will follow you down to the deepest levels of hypnosis. From there, we will begin to rid you of your obsessive thoughts and your compulsive behaviors. Working together, we will rebuild your personality in positive, normal and constructive ways, starting tonight and in the weeks ahead.”
(Note: So-called death “prediction” websites do exist. They are farces.)