JJ and D in bed in the morning. The sun is just creeping above the horizon, filling the room with foggy gray and gold. They have been awake for no more than a few minutes. No coffee yet. No breakfast in bed. Just blinky eyes and sensuous stretches.
JJ: We are the Gestalt Group. We decide things.
D: Excuse me?
JJ: We are. We secretly control the world.
D: We all do.
JJ: Yes. Gestalt.
D: Gesundeit.
JJ: We are not amused.
D: If I'm the only one amused and I'm part of this Gestalt Group, what does that mean?
JJ: It means you're lying. Or the Gestalt Group is confused.
D: Or schizoid.
JJ: Or MPD.
D: What happens when the Gestalt has MPD? Maybe that's what's really happening in the world? We were all one conciousness once, but now we've fragmented to the point that we all have individual POVs. Mankind as a whole has a global mental illness. A cultural mental illness.
JJ: We don't think so. We think it's just you.
D: Hmmm...I'm not sure what that means.
Tickling ensues.
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