Hal went to a psychiatrist.
"Doc," he said, "I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think
there's somebody under it. I get under the bed, I think there's somebody on top of it.
Top, under, top, under. You gotta help me, I'm going crazy!"
"Just put yourself in my hands for two
years," said the shrink. "Come to me three times a week, and I'll cure your
fears."
"How much do you charge?"
"A hundred dollars per visit."
"I'll sleep on it," said Hal.
Six months later the doctor met Hal on the
street. "Why didn't you ever come to see me again?" asked the psychiatrist.
"For a hundred buck's a visit? A
bartender cured me for ten dollars."
