This post hails back to March 2012 at the height of my Guy of Gisborne fascination. Written for Fanstravaganza 3, an annual Richard Armitage fan appreciation fest, this madcap farce featured me, my psyche trio (mischievous id Jodi, nanny superego Jada, and enigmatic ego Quiet One), Patty the Pomeranian, Winston the black pug of depression, and my therapist Dr. G. And let’s not forget Guy of Gisborne as played by Richard Armitage in Robin Hood.
Be sure to read first parts 1 and 2 linked below to get the full picture of our heroine’s situation.
We last left off here and here with our intrepid heroine not getting her money’s worth in therapy. But her fantasy figure certainly is.
A Big City
I gaze at my watch again. Has it only been 45 minutes? Have we slipped into a crack in the space/time continuum? Surely it must be next week. On the upside, Guy has covered a lot of ground but the session ends in five minutes. What could possibly go wrong?
Guy sits slumped in his chair, his fingers still caught in his long hair – correction, much longer hair. It falls in waves to his shoulders, obscuring his perfect profile. His black leather has changed for the designer Italianate variety. He’s ready for the cover of Medieval GQ. Oh dear. I have a bad feeling about this.
Jada makes an observation. “Dr. G. seems to be putting him through changes.”
Jodi licks her lips. “I’ve always liked this version best.”
Quiet One … is quiet.
Winston and Patty paw through my copy of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, (Fourth Edition), chuffing and apparently arguing with each other. Clever pooches.
I glance curiously at Dr. G. as she scribbles notes in earnest. She has pulled books off the shelf behind her, including her own DSM manual. Her eyes have a strange light, the kind I get when I think about “peaches.”
Jada eyes the manual. “She’s probably thinking about how many diagnoses she can cram into her medical journal article, plus her best seller and a slot on Oprah’s new network.”
Jodi ogles Guy as he turns his glamorous face to the therapist. “She’s probably thinking about the ethical question of treating and shagging a fantasy figure at the same time.”
Quiet One snerks.
Dr. G. stops scribbling. “Let me get this straight, Guy. You craved the love of your mother, hated your father, and eschewed love and security for status and power. Despite your childhood experience, you accidentally abandoned your baby in pursuit of that in the fear that your lady love would find out?”
Guy’s lovely brows furrow in confusion. “Aye, er… nay… er… aye?”
Jada interjects. “Well, it’s a little bit more complicated that…”
Jodi adds gleefully. “Yes, don’t forget about the love/hate relationship with Vasey. Oh, the Freudian implications there!”
Quiet One actually nods.
Winston and Patty rip pages out of the DSM manual. They have an impressive pile.
Dr. G. sighs. “Vasey?”
Guy looks away grimly. “The Sheriff of Nottingham. He was my liege lord since I was made a knight. I was duty bound to carry out his orders. He promised me return of my family lands, status and power that was taken from us when King Richard took the throne. His ways … were not always well received.”
Jada nods. “Guy was the black knight.”
Jodi elucidates further. “Guy was the sadistic, lying, cheating, hand chopping, murdering black knight.”
Is Quiet One holding her breath?
Guy flicks his hair and snaps defensively. “I only chopped off one hand, killed a few. My sins were middling as far as black knights go.”
Jada ponders this. “Yes, he does have a point. He was fairly average.”
Jodi scoffs. “Average? He couldn’t shoot an arrow straight, lost every fight with Robin Hood and was a lousy swordsman!”
Quiet One is … yes, that was sporfle.
I almost sporfle as well. Jodi, as usual, makes a point; Guy was not only pretty, he was a pretty bad black knight. Who knew?
Guy jumps to his feet, shaking in impressive manly umbrage. “I did the best I could, you accursed… id! I did not wish to do it at all! I could not get away from Vasey. At least Marian could see the best in me.”
Jada clears her throat uncomfortably.
Jodi harrumphs. “And look what happened there…”
Quiet One heaves a long sigh.
Winston and Patty pause in their page ripping.
I gaze anxiously at my watch. “It’s time, session is over! Let’s go!”
Everybody ignores me.
Dr. G. can’t help herself. “So what happened with Marian?”
Guy’s lovely features scrunch heartbreakingly, sapphire eyes welling with tears.
Jada begins hesitantly. “Well… there was an unfortunate knifing…”
Jodi puts it out there. “He ran her through with his sword.”
Quiet One is … very quiet.
I hold my breath.
Guy erupts in a rage, hair flying gorgeously as he shakes his head. “It was an accident! I did not mean to do it. I would never harm her!”
Dr. G. leaps to her feet cooing. “Of course, now calm yourself.”
Guy continues in his angst. “It was truly an accident! But such words that came from her mouth … she said she would rather die than marry me, that she would marry Hood! I wanted to stop those words. I had my sword like thus -” He whips out the broadsword. ” – and reached for her like thus -… GOD’S BLOOD … !”
We all gasp, including surprised Dr. G. with the sword sticking out of her.
She stares up into Guy’s face. “I – I think … I know … what your problem is.”
We all lean in close.
She gasps out. ” You – You … You’re a fuck-up.” *THUD*
To say there is a long silence is an understatement.
Jada states the obvious. “This isn’t good.”
Jodi considers the remark. ” It sure isn’t! Is “fuck-up” even in the DSM manual?”
Winston and Patty gape and shake their heads.
I’m beyond words. On the downside I have a dead therapist on my hands. On the upside, I won’t have to worry about the bill. It’s always best to think positive.
Guy stares in angst at his sword, probably wondering how it got there, too. His magnificent shoulders droop in resignation. “I am cursed! I have killed another innocent maid. This cannot stand. I must throw myself upon the mercy of your law.”
Jada is ever pragmatic. “Point that thing elsewhere, Guy. Actually, you’re not real. None of us are. So only Judi can go to prison.”
Jodi grins saucily. “Exactly! So you’ll have to resort to getting blindingly drunk and indulging in wild forgetful sex every night again.”
Guy flinches. “I remember not.”
Jodi winks. “It hasn’t been written. Yet.”
Jada finishes her assessment. “And Patty will be ripped from the bosum of her rescue forever home and thrown back into the clutches of foster care.”
Patty yelps and faints. Winston whines at her.
I’m feeling a bit faint myself. I could see it now: The new Twinkie defense! – woman says therapist killed by fantasy figure, only eyewitness is traumatized dog, news at 11.
Quiet One speaks, astounding us all. “Look, if Guy isn’t real, then neither is the sword. See, there is no wound at all. I think she’s just suffered something like a psychic shock. It’s going to be okay!”
We gawp at Quiet One for a second as the realization sinks in. Much relieved backslapping ensues.
I am exhausted. “Well, we’d better get out of here before she wakes up. Hopefully she won’t remember a thing.” Or I’ll need a new therapist.
Suddenly a male voice booms. “It looks like I have arrived just in time!”
We look around before finally looking down. There stands a small, stocky, but very attractive fit figure with long flowing gray streaked locks and full beard, regal blue robes and a fur cloak. Blue eyes regard us imperiously.
Guy eyes the interloper, sensing competition. “Who is this?”
The figure pulls himself up to full height. He barely reaches Guy’s elbow. “I am Thorin Oakenshield, King of Erebor, and King Under the Mountain.” He turns to me and inclines his head. “I am at your service, madam.”
Jada smiles. “Ohhhh, it’s the Hobbit dwarf! Are we moving on already, Judi?”
Jodi stoops, pinches Thorin’s cheek, and coos. “He is sooo cute! Wait until we get him some sexy time with that elven model.”
Thorin blushes and sputters. “We don’t do such things with elves!”
Jodi winks and strokes his beard. “Oh, but you’ll like what this elf does.”
Quiet One laughs.
Guy turns charmingly red in the face. “You are forsaking me for a … a… a HOBBIT DWARF?”
I quickly try to smooth this over. “I’m not forsaking you -”
Thorin interrupts. “She promised to write me tales in which I regain my kingdom and riches.”
All eyes turn to me.
I shrug helplessly. Oh dear. I wonder if I’ll survive the next session.