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Can you please review what I wrote? (Extreme criticism and ideas welcome.)

“What about lumber chopping, um, how does it…well, how do I put this? How does it and what about it, uh, soothes you? The wood chopping, I mean.”
“I dunno.”
“That’s been your answer to the past twenty questions, Coot. Give a little effort, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want to be here just as much as you do.”
“Okay.”
He waited quite patiently. Coot made no attempt to provide an answer more sufficient. He simply bobbed his head to some imaginary song and made weird “pew” noises every eight measures in his song. The psychologist finally spoke up out of exasperation.
“I’ve gathered you are not thinking deeply about your response?”
“Oh, was I supposed to?” Coot said innocently, then followed with a couple of groovey “pews” at which his red hair bobbed up and down.
“I can always write down ‘psychosis’ for my patient’s diagnosis,” the doctor threatened.
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“I just might.”
“Whatever makes you feel happy,” Coot answered blissfully, grinning with joy.
“What? Look, Coot,” once again he groped around for the correct words, “I can’t leave here without getting something more out of you.” He resettled in the plush couch he was sitting on and gave him a stern look.
“Meh.”
“No, really, I could get fired,” the shrink said, suddenly getting invested in his own emotions.
“Clearly,” said Coot, glancing toward the papers on his desk that read “Termination Warning.” The psychologist glanced over toward them as well and blushed.
“Yes, yes.”
There was a knock on the door and the psychologist jumped, startled. Then he yelled “come on in.” Another doctor from the clinic poked her head in.
“How’s it going, Doctor Barney?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at Coot who was upside down on his chair grunting out We Will Rock You.
Dr. Barney’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. Coot watched them out of the corner of his eye and concluded that she was probably his shrink’s boss.
“Oh, ah, well,” he gurgled out, at first nervous but then gathered himself, “Splendid, splendid, truly, Dr. Cholmondeley. Coot’s really advancing in his psychological journey. It’s truly just amazing to be around this young man and hear all that he has to say.”
“Well that’s…” Dr. Cholmondeley paused as Coot started waving his arms wildly in his imaginary drum fill, “…wonderful?”
“Would you mind stepping out for a moment, Dr. Barney?”
“Of course, yes, absolutely.”
“He’ll be alright?” she asked Dr. Barney, pointing to Coot.
“Absolutely, yes, of course.”
She raised her eyebrows at them both, then walked out the door.



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