Silent Scream

"Which country would you nuke if you had a free pass?" asked Dr. Ermann Esse.

"I beg your pardon!?" said President Obama.

"If you could fry anybody, no repercussions, who would it be?" asked the psychiatrist.

"Well," President Obama looked around nervously, then he said something, but it was so quiet that Dr. Esse could not hear it.

Then President Obama was gone, and Elton John was lying on the couch.

"Which country would you nuke if you had a free pass?" asked Dr. Ermann Esse.

"Panikstan," said the knight. "Next question."

"When you're in the shower, do you sing your own songs or somebody else's?" asked Dr. Ermann Esse.

"I beg your pardon!?" said Elton John.

"What do you sing in the shower?"

"Well, naturally I sing--" said Elton John, but it was too quiet, and Dr. Esse could not hear the last bit.

Then Elton John was gone, and Henry Samuelson was on the couch.

"What do you sing in the shower?" asked Dr. Esse.

"Elvis Presley--best CIA agent we ever had posing as a musician. Next question."

"What is it that really bothers you about Charles Wu?" asked Dr. Esse.

"I beg your pardon!?" said Samuelson.

"Wu--why do you hate him?" Samuelson said something, but Dr. Esse could not catch it.

Then Henry Samuelson was gone, and Bridezilla was on the couch.

"Wu--why do you hate him?" Dr. Esse asked.

"I heard him in former Senator Evermore Breadman's office saying I had legs like a praying mantis and my voice sounded like a howler monkey trained by a harpy! Next question."

"Hmmm." Dr Esse was growing confused. "How old were you when you first started fantasizing about your dream wedding, and what did your dream groom look like?"

"I beg your pardon!?" said Bridezilla.

Then Bridezilla was gone, and Julian Assange was on the couch.

"How old were you when you first started fantasizing about your dream wedding, and what did your dream groom look like?" asked Dr. Esse.

"I was eight years old, and he looked like Colin Firth in 'Another Country'." Assange sat up from the pillow and added, "my mother dressed me in girls' clothing, so it wasn't my fault. Next question." Then he eased back into the pillow.

"Did you reveal diplomatic secrets on Wikileaks just to get laid in Sweden?" asked Dr. Esse.

"I beg your pardon!?" said Julian Assange.

Then Assange was gone, and Glenn Beck was on the couch.

"Did you reveal diplomatic secrets on Wikileaks just to get laid in Sweden?" asked Dr. Esse. Beck started crying. "Oh, knock it off!" hollered Dr. Esse, who was getting really frustrated.

Beck abruptly stopped crying. "I love this country!" he declared. "I can't help it if they idolize me in Sweden! You know, they have very little sunlight at this time of the year, and it was dark, and I couldn't understand what they were saying until finally this one voice said, 'We know what you're doing, and it's God's work!', and their houses are super-insulated so women just walk around in skimpy dresses even in wintertime, and I'm only human, and I can only take so much temptation!" Then he started crying again. "Next question!"

"Do you believe anything you have ever said on Fox television, or is it all one big lie?" asked Dr. Esse.

"I beg your pardon!?" said Glenn Beck.

Then Glenn Beck was gone, and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton was lying on the couch.

"Do you believe anything you have ever said on Fox television, or is it all one big lie?" asked Dr. Esse.

Clinton shook her head slowly. "I have bad hair," she said. "That's all they've ever gotten right about me. Next question."

"You've spoken so eloquently about helping impoverished women in the Third World, but then you threatened to withhold foreign aid from countries if they voted in Cancun to hold developed countries like the U.S. accountable for reducing carbon emissions. Why?"

"I beg your pardon!?" said Clinton.

Then the Secretary of State was gone, and the ghost of former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara was lying on the couch.

"Did you blackmail Third World countries, Didymus?" asked Dr. Esse.

"You're asking all the wrong questions!" exclaimed McNamara's ghost.

"No, I'm not!" protested Dr. Esse. "The people are wrong, not the questions!" Didymus shook his head at Dr. Esse. "Why won't you die?!" screamed Dr. Esse, rising to his feet.

Then Didymus was gone, and Dr. Esse's eyes rolled back in their sockets until he saw a demon rising out of the Potomac River. "Why won't you die?" whispered Dr. Esse.

"I already did," Ardua hissed. "But my baby will live!"

Then Dr. Esse jumped up from his leather chair, and his silent scream was deafening. The dream was always the same, and the baby was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.

Outside his window sill, a raven watched carefully through the glass as Dr. Esse helped himself to another swig of the Scotch a grateful Federal Reserve Board governor had given him just last week. Perhaps it's time to write a prescription, he thought, examining the way his desk lamp illuminated the liquor bottle. Nobody would know.

But Ardua already knew.