Entry 2: Dictated: April 26, 1951 (continued from Part One)
For our first session, I thought I would try to understand Grandfig’s psychosis through the medium of his art. I brought in the artwork he had been working on for a hat-maker, and had him role-play what the characters were saying to one another. [Figure 8]
Dr. Cornelius: So what are the men in this first panel saying to one another Mr. Grandfig?
Gradfig’s voice: Hey Bob, how are things going with the new job?
Great Jim, I’ve just been assigned to CEO cleanup in sector 6.
Really, how’s that going?
Not well. They keep eating everyone. But at least I have this hat. Of course, it would be nice if it had a laser defense net too!
Dr. Cornelius: What is a laser defense net?
Grandfig: Something to keep the CEOs at bay. Long enough to find a baby or something to throw at them anyway.
Dr. Cornelius: What?
Grandfig: Should I do the next one?
Dr. Cornelius: Uh, I haven’t fully absorbed the first, but yes, let’s.
Grandfig: “Hey Steve how’s that hat feeling. Is the laser defense net uncomfortable?”
“Mrfpp, mdhgtr, pank mawlk … mipe.”
“Yeah, I had a cerebral embolism once too.”
Dr. Cornelius: So you think the man with the pipe had a cerebral embolism?
Grandfig: Of course not. Jones is an idiot.
[sound of heavy sigh]
Dr. Cornelius: How about this last one?
Grandfig: Oh, they’re in love.
Apparently, Mr. Scott’s amateur diagnosis is correct. Clearly, there are repressed issues afoot, so for our next session, I asked Grandfig to create a painting of his family, and he produced Figure 9:
I administered 150 mg of thorazine immediately.
When Grandfig had calmed, I asked him why he was so obsessed with anthropophagy. Had he eaten people?
He was groggy, but he answered. “Not in this timeline Doctor. And in the Land of the Future, all I ever ate was one foot. One foot! You can’t be a cannibal if you eat one foot. Especially if you didn’t know it was a foot. You know I don’t mind telling you, I wish I’d never had my tail removed, then none of this would ever have happened.”
Entry 3: Dictated: April 27, 1951
When I dropped by Grandfig’s secured room to see how his night went, I was surprised to see that he was gone. All that was left was a postcard and a small can of food. I ripped off the label, for the record.
The content of the postcard is clearly indicative of some kind of deep paranoia, probably brought about by eating a foot and/or being abused by homosexual Nazis. I must say, I was worried about the veiled threat that I would see Grandfig “in the future.”. The food was clearly mislabeled, as it turned out to be some kind of canned meat.
It was, however, delicious.