"Mr. Nichols, the X-Ray seems to show the reasons for your discomfort."
"Thank Goodness, Doctor! What is it?"
"You have a porcelain figurine of a ballerina stuck up inside your rectum."
"Yeah: I suspected as much."
"I suppose there is no reason why I would need to know how it got there..."
"Well, ballerinas are graceful and romantic and pretty..."
"Okay..."
"I have OCD, Doctor, and I love -- love -- love Porcelain. Sometimes I am absolutely and completely overwhelmed by the compulsion to put Porcelain objects up my ass."
"So this is a reoccurring thing?"
"Oh yes. Porcelain salt shakers, Porcelain gravy boats -- at one time or another I have put them in my ass. I am compelled. I even once managed to put an entire set of Original American Colonies Commemorative Thimbles up my ass. That was on the Fourth of July, I remember that."
"But you are usually able to remove these objects on your own, I take it."
"Oh yes: you'd be surprised with what you can do with a pair of Chopsticks. Besides eating Chinese food, I mean."
"I get it..."
"The chopsticks are Porcelain, too...."
"Of course they are."
"As I said, I have OCD: what goes in must go out. What goes in must go out. What goes in must go out --"
"I understand, Mr. Nichols."
"It all started when I was a Child. We were at my Grandparents for Christmas Eve Dinner, and there were all of these wonderful Porcelain objects on the table: it was like a Fairy Tale Dream. Next thing I know, Grandma is wondering where the Porcelain Candle Holder was."
"I see..."
"I put it back on the table in the morning, like nothing happened."
"You know, I could suggest a Doctor who might be able to help you with your compulsions..."
"Yeah. I also wash my hands a lot..."
"With your compulsion for Porcelain the repeated washing of hands might not be a bad thing..."
I am Laslo.
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