The Fed

Professor Pete

Michael Noble

Dear Prof. Pete,

My name is Billy. I am 8 years old. I live in Jacobsville, Indiana. Last week my dog Sparkles died. Why did he have to die? What can I do to bring Sparkles back?

Billy

Dear Billy,

Your problems have to do with things called your id, ego, and superego. Let me explain. Your id comes along and goes "dude, I'm a sick bastard and like to torture and fricassee little dogs!"

But then your ego is like "No, I don't think that would be right. Anyway, I want to bonk the brains out of my mother, because she's just so damn hot. Die, daddy!"

But then your superego is like "Never fear, Superego is here! Holy shit, what's with all the dead dogs, and... oh my god, why are you stabbing your father to death? I need a vacation in Vienna."

So, Sparkles is dead because you're a heartless little bag of evil like the rest of us, and because you want to screw your mom and kill your dad. You really have some big problems on your hands, Billy. Oh no, the editor's back...

Um... always remember, the maggots that burrow through the flesh of life, or through your left shoulder, ain't that bad. Besides, you shouldn’t complain, you deserve them you little son of a bitch.

Professor Pete

Dear Prof. Pete,

I'm having some troubles in love. There's this girl down the hall from me who I really like. I want to ask her out, but I'm afraid of rejection. How do I do it? Also, would it be taboo to have a relationship with someone on the same floor as me?

Clueless in Carman

Dear Clueless,

Shit, man, I am so dead. Never think just because your dealer is named Jesus that he's going to be into that whole forgiveness racket. Especially if you killed his girlfriend in a PCP-hazed fit.

Um... Okay, so you want to bag the chick down the hall. Well, let's take a lesson from the Casanova of Austria, Sigmund Freud. You see, if you're really nice to women and "listen" to all of their girly "problems" something weird happens called "transference." That's a real b.s. way of saying, 'When you be shoutin', "Who's yo daddy?", da bitch be shoutin', "You are, studgod!"' So get to work on messing with her head.

Wait a second. You said she's on your floor? Jumpin' josaphats, man! Oh my dear god! Of course that's taboo. It's a little thing we here at the University frown upon called "floorcest," as in "you're better off screwing a hole in the floor, you sick fuck."

Obviously I've got bigger fish to fry, so I'm wasting no more time on you, pathetic loser. Someone's at the door!

Getting the hell out of here,
Prof. Pete