Certainly lighter than previous prompts! And equally certainly not something I'm going to try and squeeze into the current story (though I suppose the Inspectral could walk past his office...).
Mumbles "Ah, Mumbles!" Dr. Fraud sat down in a leather wing-back chair at the back of the coffee-shop. For all this was rural Idaho the owner of the coffee shop, a certain Frau Haushalter, had gone to great lengths to recreate what she thought was nineteenth century Vienna, and the chairs were set in front a wood-panelled walls and either side of a large fire-place. Pictures, in black-and-white or sepia tones were hung above the fireplace and their glass was soot-blackened in places. Between the chairs was a table around whose rim, on the sides, was engraved a slogan now most commonly associated with the Nazis. "Dr. Fraud!" Mumbles, the professional life coach, sounded like he had a chest full of congestion, and he followed up his greeting with nearly a whole minute of coughing. "Did you ever tell me your first name?" "No," said Dr. Fraud. "Last time we were talking I asked you if you were named after a disease of sheep and things got a little bit out of hand." Mumbles frowned. "Well, that wasn't exactly the friendliest thing you could have said," he said. "Whatever happened to professional courtesy? Or at least honour amongst thieves?" A waitress dressed in a long black dress and a doctor's hooded mask, looking disturbingly like a cos-player from an apocalyptic video game, set down cups of coffee and retreated. "Speaking of thieves," said Dr. Fraud, "how's business? Is this virus affecting you?" The waitress returned and set down a pot of schlagsahne, a three-tiered arrangement of petit-fours, and two plates containing slices of Black Forest Gateau. "Not so much," said Mumbles, coughing just a little. "I'm doing a lot of it over Zoom these days. Better than skype and it gets my clients feeling enthusiastic for a session just from the name of it! I've got one at the moment -- can't name names, obviously, but he's the CEO of a potato-packing plant, the one in the next town, on Seventh Street, the big building with the red roof. Well, preserving his anonymity and all that, but he's having issues with motivation. I pointed out to him that potatoes are a staple of man's diet, and that he should proud to have found a dead-end where he can be permanently at the top, but that's not seemed to get the message across." "Hmm," said Dr. Fraud thoughtfully. He sniffed; there was a smell of caraway seed drifting through the coffee shop. "Marital issues? Perhaps he has only... small potatoes himself?" "I checked," said Mumbles. "Made him stand up and show me. Remind me, I'll bring you the video recording next time. Wasn't impressed myself, but the internet seemed to think they were normal sized." "4-chan?" "Reddit. Maintaining anonymity, remember?" "So...?" Dr. Fraud sipped his coffee, and permitted himself a smile. "I'm going to run Myers-Briggs on him today and see what that says." "Ah, the personality test." "Well yes, but I've modified it a touch. If you get an answer wrong you get an electric shock." "There are wrong answers? I am fascinated, tell me more. I could use this!" "You'd probably do it better, Doc; I should set the answers randomly. But it definitely helps!"
2 comments:
Certainly lighter than previous prompts! And equally certainly not something I'm going to try and squeeze into the current story (though I suppose the Inspectral could walk past his office...).
Mumbles
"Ah, Mumbles!" Dr. Fraud sat down in a leather wing-back chair at the back of the coffee-shop. For all this was rural Idaho the owner of the coffee shop, a certain Frau Haushalter, had gone to great lengths to recreate what she thought was nineteenth century Vienna, and the chairs were set in front a wood-panelled walls and either side of a large fire-place. Pictures, in black-and-white or sepia tones were hung above the fireplace and their glass was soot-blackened in places. Between the chairs was a table around whose rim, on the sides, was engraved a slogan now most commonly associated with the Nazis.
"Dr. Fraud!" Mumbles, the professional life coach, sounded like he had a chest full of congestion, and he followed up his greeting with nearly a whole minute of coughing. "Did you ever tell me your first name?"
"No," said Dr. Fraud. "Last time we were talking I asked you if you were named after a disease of sheep and things got a little bit out of hand."
Mumbles frowned. "Well, that wasn't exactly the friendliest thing you could have said," he said. "Whatever happened to professional courtesy? Or at least honour amongst thieves?"
A waitress dressed in a long black dress and a doctor's hooded mask, looking disturbingly like a cos-player from an apocalyptic video game, set down cups of coffee and retreated.
"Speaking of thieves," said Dr. Fraud, "how's business? Is this virus affecting you?"
The waitress returned and set down a pot of schlagsahne, a three-tiered arrangement of petit-fours, and two plates containing slices of Black Forest Gateau.
"Not so much," said Mumbles, coughing just a little. "I'm doing a lot of it over Zoom these days. Better than skype and it gets my clients feeling enthusiastic for a session just from the name of it! I've got one at the moment -- can't name names, obviously, but he's the CEO of a potato-packing plant, the one in the next town, on Seventh Street, the big building with the red roof. Well, preserving his anonymity and all that, but he's having issues with motivation. I pointed out to him that potatoes are a staple of man's diet, and that he should proud to have found a dead-end where he can be permanently at the top, but that's not seemed to get the message across."
"Hmm," said Dr. Fraud thoughtfully. He sniffed; there was a smell of caraway seed drifting through the coffee shop. "Marital issues? Perhaps he has only... small potatoes himself?"
"I checked," said Mumbles. "Made him stand up and show me. Remind me, I'll bring you the video recording next time. Wasn't impressed myself, but the internet seemed to think they were normal sized."
"4-chan?"
"Reddit. Maintaining anonymity, remember?"
"So...?" Dr. Fraud sipped his coffee, and permitted himself a smile.
"I'm going to run Myers-Briggs on him today and see what that says."
"Ah, the personality test."
"Well yes, but I've modified it a touch. If you get an answer wrong you get an electric shock."
"There are wrong answers? I am fascinated, tell me more. I could use this!"
"You'd probably do it better, Doc; I should set the answers randomly. But it definitely helps!"
Greg - hah, I did wonder if you'd manage to work in a reference to him and continue on :P
Hah, I am glad you chose not to though. These two are quite the pair. I could listen to them (from a safe distance) chat all day :)
So many great points, but the the entire Zoom bit was fantastic.
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