SIGMUND FREUD sits reading a book. CARL JUNG enters through the door, wearing a hat and carrying a dossier. He sees Freud reading, and decides to play a prank. He approaches Freud, standing behind his chair and adopting a voice.

Entschuldigen Sie, aber sind sie bereit, Ihren regenschirm von deinen arsch, zu sammeln?

 

Whas? Nein nein nein, mine shnirm nict in meinen arsch.

 

Well, your wife would say otherwise!

 

(Putting down his book) How dare you presume what Martha would – Oh, Carl!

 

Sigmund!

 

They embrace with much backslapping and hand pumping.

 

It is you! You have pulled my leg most thoroughly my friend!

 

Yes, yes, I am the master of joke! Ha ha!

 

Oh?

 

Freud points to a spot on Jung’s lapel. Jung looks down, and Freud flicks Jung’s nose with his finger for looking. They laugh.

 

Do sit, please!

 

(Looking about) I enjoy what they’ve done with the place.

 

I was concerned we would not get our usual table. They’ve moved the drapes around…

 

They have indeed gone for a rather… audacious colour scheme… And the geometry is certainly…

 

Sharp. A brittle juxtaposition of form and function…

 

It’s very fresh. Almost a… cubist concern.

 

New.

 

Indeed.

 

I don’t much care for it.

 

No.

 

Cigar?

 

Yah!

 

Where are my manners? Whiskey, yes? Whiskey?

 

No no, I’ve some Schnapps on the way. Easier on my stomach. Best to ease myself back into the rhythm…

 

Suit yourself… So! Tell me of Vienna!

 

The analysis goes well. There are certain recurring archetypes I am seeing, but the nature of dreams is to… well, almost defy analysis. And so it is an uphill march.

 

It is to be expected. A student of mine, Marcus, was having trouble reconciling the fixations of a patient. Do you know what I said to him?

 

Go on.

 

I said, “Marcus, you must not be deterred by the patient’s limitations. They merely reflect the limitations of their carer.”

 

I agree.

 

As an aside, I also had another student who was convinced he was a bat. So the caliber of my students are is to be taken at face value! Ha ha!

 

Ha ha!

 

Ya, is funny.

 

You passed Christmas well?

 

We did, thank-you. Your card was most wonderful, wonderful.

 

Emma makes those by hand. I don’t know where she finds the time, I really don’t. I cannot tie my shoes without stringing them both together, eh? And you know, this year, for the children, she found an old bathrobe and – poof! – she was St. Nicholas, all morning!

 

Delightful, most delightful. Although Carl, I am not surprised…

 

How so?

 

I have noticed, Carl, you have developed a most substantial bublap…

 

What?

 

I only mention it because when last we met it was not quite so… pronounced.

 

Eh? Oh! Mine… paunch?

 

Ya. The bublap!

 

Well… it was a most… indulgent Noel…

 

Yah! I can tell.

 

Emma outdid herself with a Cornish Hen…

 

Delicious. I only offer a word of caution, because we both know what could happen…

 

What is that?

 

(Surreptitiously, and with faux concern) Well, it is a well-known scientific fact that when a man, suitably conditioned and furnished with… Corned Hens and Schnapps and such… it can give birth to the phenomenon known as the bublap, which can lead to unforeseen conditions…

 

Such as?

 

The bublap develops at such a rate as to obscure the toes and southern region… and the penis?

 

Uh?

 

(Barely containing his cunning) She drop off… and run away! Bush! Out the door!!

 

Hah haa!

 

Haha haaaa!

 

Oh, you got me again… Old Man!

 

I got you again… Jung Man! Epp ah!

 

Epp ah! Ahh… Where is that Schanpps… I wonder?

 

Shall I call the waiter?

 

No no, I shall wait. Actually. There was something of a more serious nature I wished to discuss with you.

 

Serious?

 

Personal. If I may…?

 

Of course. Jung Man, Old Man, we are… oof.

 

Recently, my wife and I, found ourselves… having the relations.

 

Oooh…

 

Oop?

 

No no! Continue!

 

Well. Halfway through… the venture… my wife did the most peculiar thing. She said, “Carl.”

 

Eh?

 

"Shtop.”

 

Oooh.

 

And I obliged. Then, she took my hand, and then she… she put it down, on the… on the mound.

 

Eh.

 

Then, she looked me in the eye, and said, “Carl.”

 

Oooh…?

 

“Resume!”

 

Uh oh!

 

And the funniest thing happened. I saw her appreciation increased, visibly. Quite remarkable. I still have the scratch on my back, if you’d care to see…

 

Well, Carl, I am not entirely surprised! There are many things young newlyweds may find… mysterious, but all come clear with the passage of ample time!

 

Freud laughs. Then they both laugh.

 

But you see, a funnier thing happened post the coitus. I was curious to discover how this had come about. I said to her, “Emma, surely you know, educated as you are in the psychoanalytic arts, that such expressions of passion are inherently…

 

Problematic.

 

And do you know what she said to me in reply? She said, “Carl. The dinner I make for the two us can still be enjoyed alone!”

 

Yes, again, all well and good. I fail to see [the point]…

 

Which made me think, what if we’ve missed something. What if there’s more to the psychology of the genders than we previously thought? Wouldn’t that be fascinating?

 

I suppose, from a limited point of view…

 

Jung produces a dossier of papers from under his arm.

 

I’m taking a proposal before the board next week. I’ve drafted up an entirely new study, designed to examine exactly that. Imagine, Sigmund! A new light in the dark corner that we never knew might be there!

 

Jung offers his proposal to Freud. Freud takes it reluctantly. He opens it and flips through the pages. He begins to chuckle.

 

Freud: Ah ha! My dear Carl… do you not think that all this a little… whimsical? That you are perhaps maybe inhabiting one of your little… dreamscapes, yes?

 

Jung: What do you mean?

 

Freud: Carl, you know as well as I do that “the sexual proclivities of the female”, such as they are, are inherent neuroses. Besides, we have extensive documentation already of the “female malfunctions of development”. Why, even I myself wrote extensively on the subject – years ago! My conclusion is irrefutable.

 

Such is the conventional consensus, yes…

 

And I ask you, as a friend, what comes from putting this before the board? Carl, from one man to another, all you do is run the risk of embarrassment by pursuing such nonsense. What do you propose to support your line of enquiry? The testimony of your wife?

 

Emma is quite a noted therapist in her field…

 

She is indeed – a talent among her kind and a credit to her gender. But you do nothing for your argument’s validity by aligning yourself such hypotheses. You will be laughed out of the boardroom.

 

He laughs, giving the dossier back to Jung. Jung looks annoyed. A beat.

 

You know, Sigmund, I have had another dream about us. In this vision, we are at the beach, in the swell, trying to grab onto the shore from the white water, but it is crumbling, crumbling into a million white bone dice in our fingers. And they all roll a zero. Impossible Very troubling.

 

Ha! Carl. You know, I have always admired your study of dreams. It takes as much scientific observation as it does… imagination. Why, with such insight, a man could think himself able to discern the mind of the Almighty himself. A wise man may think he hears the words of God, but in fact hears only echoes of himself.

 

Silence.

 

So. You will not read it?

 

Not at all. (Silence between them. Jung puts on his hat, as if to leave. As he stands, Sigmund puts a hand on his arm) Carl! Carl. You are my friend, among the ranks I hold most dear. I have too much respect for you to condone such a pointless fancy.

 

(Sitting slowly) Of course, I feel the same about you. The times I’ve spent with you I hold among the highest of my life’s experiences. Why, there was a time you and I could move mountains together. I would trust after all we’ve faced, we would hold mutual trust in equally high regard.

 

Freud stares at his friend as if slapped. Jung’s face shows no regret. There is a silence between them, then Freud smiles.

 

You know, Carl, how I finally managed to convince my student he was not a bat in man form? (Jung gives Freud a look) I indulged him. I said to him, “You are a bat? Fine. Be a bat. Live like a bat! Do as a bat does! Climb up into those rafters, and sleep upside down like the bat!” And do you know what he did? (Freud looks at Jung) He did just that. Six minutes later, the blood all rushed to his head, he lost consciousness, and fell face first to the floor.

 

Silence.

 

Hmm.

 

HHHmm…

 

Hmm. You know. I think I might have a whiskey.

 

Freud nods in satisfaction. Jung clicks his fingers for the waiter – the lights snap off.

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