The Art of Psycho Therapy...

President Donald Trump has a cold...

"More people die from the common cold than CORNA-19"
Muzzy munches his beef lo mien.

"This is the worst time for me to get sick.
I need to get out to my rallies .. Cough-cough."
The President is chatting with Muzzy on ZOOM.

"That's how you got sick. Jeeze, your not a kid anymore.
Pence can do the footwork.. He's a fun guy."
Muzzy suppresses a giggle.

"Muzzy, guys my age can from bad fish.
I don't think I'll go straight to Heaven.
Do know any way to tell .. if I'm okay?"
Trump sipped his chicken soup.

Muzzy mumbled some Hebrew Kabbalah.
Adolf Hitler appeared next to Donald's bed.
"Oh, come on. I'm not that bad." said nervously.
He put his soup on his bed tray, rattling the spoon.

"You like to read my speeches." Hitler took a sip of the soup.
"I little too much salt." Adolf put the spoon back in the bowl.
Trump reached out and touched Hitler's hand.
"He's real." the President slid slowly back from the apparition.

Muzzy had finished his lo mien, "This is a projection of your shadow."
Muzzy raised his hands with the Vulcan live long and prosper gesture.
"My shadow?" the President looked puzzled.
Muzzy took a long breath, "This is your alter ego."

"But, he's really solid." Donald poked Hitler with his butter knife.
"Because your mind is keeping him real from minute to minute." Muzzy burped.
Hitler snatched the butter knife and spread some jelly on his toast and ate it.
"Shouldn't you be in Hell?" Donald queried.
Hitler shrugged and had some more jelly and toast.

Muzzy snapped his fingers, "Wake up!"
Donald came out of his trance, "Jesus! That was insane!"
Muzzy shrugged, "Did it help?"
Donald felt his ribs, "I feel better. The congestion is gone."
"It's an old Hebrew mind trick." Muzzy smiled and winked.


Reflections~From a flu can come deep thoughts.



Vertago