"The twelfth of June," the doctor said. "And why does Timmy ask such a question?"
"You forgot to tear off yesterday." And Timmy tore the little sheet off, proceeded to make a dart of it.
"Well, what you've been meaning to say," George said, "is that we're going to have to cut down on Timmy's Elroom time."
"Aw, Dad!" Timmy protested.
"No. Cut it down we will not do." The doctor shook his head gravely. "We will cut it out altogether."
"Cut it out?" George said hopefully. He leaned forward with interest. "Maybe we should get rid of our outfit?"
"Mr. Briggs. You do not know, perhaps, sublimation can be dangerous. Confusing reality, stimulating unreality, stunting thinking, bringing on neuroses. Tolerance. He needs tolerance. Timmy cannot develop tolerance with too much of a dose, as he has had. Do you see now? The AG test—ah!—it is good. It shows us he is leaving reality. We can't let him psychotic become."
"But he doesn't believe the programs!" Mrs. Briggs exclaimed.
"Not yet, Mrs. Briggs! Not yet. If he sublimes enough he will soon, though. No?"
"I can't stand the thought of locking Timmy out of it," Mrs. Briggs said sadly.