Dr. Kukuheimer turned on a slide showing the ruins of Pompeii. Our hero was now breathing like the winner of a fat woman’s race. Without giving him a chance to recover, Dr. Kukuheimer flashed a life sized chromo of Annette Kellerman.
Herman took one look at the fancy curves and jumped to his feet with a yell. Tearing his hair, our hero began running around the room and falling over desks.
“Take her away,” he screamed, “I can’t stand such vile sights.”
But Dr. Kukuheimer only smiled and threw a picture of Gilda Grey on the screen. Gilda was doing her Hawaiian split and wearing a small-sized doormat with the word Welcome on it.
This was too much for our hero. After pulling wildly at his hair he let out a deep groan and collapsed into the wastebasket. Dr. Kukuheimer revived him with an ice pick.
“Oh, God!” murmured Herman, “was there anybody saved?”
“Sit up and I will tell you what’s the matter with you,” answered Dr. Kukuheimer. “You are among friends.”
Herman sneaked a look at the empty screen, and sighed.
“Yes,” spoke the doctor, “you are in a bad way. You have all the complexes. A wonderful case. My record shows you have a highly developed Oedipus Rex Complex, a homosexual complex and a distinct touch of necrophilia. You are also suffering from a pronounced masochistic neurosis with catamite tendencies, and it is obvious that you are a pathologic fetichist with malignant satyriasis compulsions.”
Our hero, when he heard this, broke down and wept like a school boy.