The Last Therapy Session of Malcolm Klyde Bippins
Dylan Freno
“Mal, you don’t have to see this as such a bad thing!”
Mal dried his hands on his pants, then shot a perturbed look towards his therapist. He was, for once, at a loss for words.
“I mean, come on, this is truly incredible! You’ve become part of the history books now, and by extension, so have I! Can you focus on that?” Mal’s therapist, Annie, prompted him in a condescending tone.
Malcolm Klyde Bippins was a man who thought about how he was perceived by others more than anything else in his life. His social anxiety made it hard for him to connect to anyone besides his parents and his sister, Delilah. A coworker recommended Mal try therapy after Mal suggested putting all his patients to sleep, so he didn’t have to talk to them. He was an eye doctor. Mal preferred to be invisible to the general population.
Four hours before his session with Annie, aliens had landed in Seattle and had asked for him by name.
This upset Malcolm quite a bit.
It upset Annie too, but only because it meant she had to listen to him whine about it.
Mal continued whining. “How did they know my whole NAME? Is the president going to be looking for me? Why do they even wanna meet me at all? And why do they wanna meet me in Seattle? I don’t even have a car! I take the bus to work!”
Annie smacked her lips as she began to talk. “You’re so focused on the why of everything, try to focus on the bright side! You’re basically a celebrity now! Every single person on Earth is talking about you! I would love it if that happened to me!” She really would.
Annie Lorenwall was undoubtedly the worst therapist in Dallas. Mal was her last remaining patient, only because he was too uncomfortable to tell her that he would rather be the star of his own reality show than see her one more time. Annie needed Malcolm as her sole source of income, and she was pathetically failing at securing him.
“If you compiled all my nightmares and anxieties and then broadcasted them on national television, it would only be half as bad as this. I don’t want the public spotlight. There’s a zero percent chance I’m going to Seattle. I would rather be the star of my own-”
“Malcolm, don’t start that again. But maybe this would be good for you. Since you can’t socialize with humans, maybe you can make friends with these aliens.”
Malcolm pinched his face like a child being force-fed broccoli. “I don’t want to make friends with aliens!” he wailed as he threw up his hands, then clasped them together and began stressfully cracking his knuckles.
“Like we discuss nearly every week, you have to be open to trying new things. Staying trapped in an uncomfortable situation only prolongs your suffering. You have to make a move, for better or worse.” Annie thought to herself that this might be the best advice she’d ever given, and mentally gave herself a pat on the back.
“Annie, that might be the worst advice you’ve ever given,” Malcolm lamented. “Why would I want to try anything new when I can stick to cooking shows, baseball, and How It’s Made? The risk involved in going to Seattle is way too high, and besides, what if there are cameras there and they try to interview me?”
“They will interview you, but I’m sure they won’t ask questions about you. They will want to know about the extraterrestrials that have come to our planet. They’re probably a lot more interesting than Malcolm Klyde Bippins.”
Hearing his full name would have normally reminded him of being scolded by his mother as a child, but right now all his mind could summon was the scratchy echo of the recording he heard on the bus ride to therapy. His name was regurgitated by inhuman voices asking for his presence without explaining why. He shuddered as the sound of his name bounced around in his mind, as he physically tried to shake his head to clear his thoughts.
“I can see this is really tearing you up. You will get through this,” Annie leaned in and rested her hand on Mal’s arm. “You just have to be brave, like me! Face your fears for once! Don’t just let life happen to you, happen to life!” Annie was getting worked up now and squeezed Mal’s arm as she began listing off other motivational lines she vaguely remembered. “Grab the world by the neck and don’t let go! Live, laugh, love! Carpe Diem! Feliz Navidad!”
Malcolm brushed her hand off his arm. “Agh! I just…You’re not listening to me! You’re not hearing me!”
“Of course I’m hearing you. Malcolm, the aliens are a metaphor for entering into new social situations with people you don’t know yet. It’s okay to-”
“The aliens are aliens who are real! You know that! You told me you saw them on TV! Here!” Malcolm grabbed a nearby remote control and turned on the TV in the back of Annie’s office, then flipped the channel to the news.
The screen showed a chiseled, fair-skinned man in an astronaut suit waving towards a sea of onlookers and cameras as he boarded a futuristic spaceship. The news ticker on the bottom of the screen scrolled by: “Worldwide Hero Malcolm Klyde Bippins of Seattle boards alien ship to leave Earth, plans to never return. Will never see another human face again.”
Both Annie and Malcolm looked shocked. Annie piped up, “Huh, I guess there’s another Malcolm Klyde Bippins. Who knew? Anyway, I guess we can get back to our normal discussions now. How is work going?”
A million things raced through Mal’s mind, but one beat out the rest in trying to escape his lips. He decided to be brave and say what he’d been wanting to say for many months. “Annie, I don’t want you to be my therapist anymore.”
Dylan Freno is a Digital Filmmaking major in the Class of 2024. He is from Old Bridge, New Jersey, and has worked on multiple short films in New York and New Jersey.