Score: 3 / 5
A woman brings her son to a psychiatrist. On top of his restless destructiveness, she tells him, the boy is in the habit of putting his finger up his arse. The psychiatrist asks the mother to leave the room whilst he tries to discover what's going on with the child's mind. When she has gone, he says:
“I’m Dr Fletcher, Darren. I want you to relax. Do anything you like, for a while and then we’ll have a little chat.”
After a brief interval, the boy puts his finger up his arse.
“I’m glad you did that Darren,” the psychiatrist says. “We need to talk about that. What do you think makes you do that? Why’ve you put your finger up your bottom?”
“Dunno,” the boy says. “I suppose, as much as anything, it was because I was bored.”
“Aha! Thanks for that Darren. I’m just going to have a word with your mum. Wait here.”
“That boy’s bored,” he says to the mother in the lobby. “I think he’s a young man of considerable intelligence and imagination…”
He goes on talking to her for five minutes and then he gives her a prescription and a booklet. When they go back into the clinic they find that Darren has wrecked the place. He’s broken furniture, smashed any fragile object he can reach, and set fire to the curtains.
“Why did you want to do all this damage to my room?” he says.
“I was bored,” the boy says.
“Why didn’t you put your finger up your arse?” the psychiatrist says.
