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The Buzz On How Maggie Got Inside Her Psychiatrist's Head

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It was an incredibly eventful afternoon of a very (AHEM) special September 22nd of 2019 in the lovely Maggie Pesky's formerly unbeknownst REAL hometown of O-Town, and the poor little triangular-pink-haired, rail-thin, six-limbed, disturbingly attractive but also rather unfortunately 12-year-old anthropomorphic fly girl (who was now human-sized, thanks to the admittedly rather ethically questionable efforts of the mentally deranged, hook-handed, slim-bodied, yellow-furred, red-headed, gorgeously well-endowed, light-blue-dress-with-adorable-kangaroo-pouch-like-singular-pocket-wearing and now-undershirt-less local anthropomorphic cat nurse known as Dr. Paula Hutchison) had just recently been carried off to the local O-Town Asylum by a big, unruly mob of ridiculously overzealous court sympathizers after nearly being arrested for serving as Flecko's (her psychopathic, child-molesting, COMPLETELY personal-hygiene-lacking and presumably homeless adoptive uncle's) rather disturbingly shameless (not to mention sadistic) accomplice in the act of sneaking inside Virginia Wolfe's (Heffer Wolfe's adoptive mother's) brain and mind-controlling her into her own immediate family's helpless sex slave, then viciously murdering him with his own knife in a horrifically manic yet beautifully cathartic fit of self-defensive rage in response to his almost entirely successful (right down to the obligatory vaginal penetration and resulting impregnation, no less) attempt to rape her literally to death inside of said brain while its owner's aforementioned entire immediate family was bound, gagged and helplessly forced to idly sit on its living room couch and watch in utterly speechless terror.

Needless to say, the asylum's resident security guards, while certainly empathetic for what Flecko had put Maggie through, were QUITE far from happy to see her after what she herself had done to poor old Virginia (landed the grossly obese and already cripplingly senile wolf mother smack-dab into her very own luxuriously padded cell at the very same asylum in which Maggie herself was now being imprisoned, no less, due to her thankfully off-screen previous-episode attempt to strangle the local Conglom-O certified Supreme Court judge and green-skinned, crotchety old anthropomorphic cane toad known as Edward Bighead to death right in front of his ever-loving wife, Beverly Bighead, in response to his rather peculiarly out-of-character declaration that Maggie being mentally unstable automatically made her legally non-accountable for the crimes that she had committed against Virginia's family AND mental health alike, no less); therefore, nearly every last fleeting glimpse that their eyes caught of her as she made her way through the building's entrance hallway was remarkably thickly peppered with positively IMMENSE disdain and general disgust on their facial/bodily language's part, let alone that of their verbal language.

"Hey, how come she gets to fly and we don't, huh?" one of the asylum's measly two anthropomorphic dodo entrance guards (who were both pure-white-feathered, thickly redneck-accented twins of each other, named Jezediah and Joe, with this one naturally being the former of the two) asked the other (Joe) curiously, impatiently tapping his foot and scratching the back of his head in confusion as Maggie, who was now tightly bound in a VERY conveniently quadruple-sleeved straitjacket, indifferently eavesdropped on them with her ever-so-deceptively adorable little head antennae on her way through the asylum's entrance hallway while her newly appointed psychiatrist, the aforementioned Dr. Hutchison, dutifully (yet also, to say the least, rather freakishly merrily) dragged Flecko's rotting, button-eyed, thoroughly taxidermized (in laymen's terms, stuffed) corpse behind her on a makeshift rope leash (noose, if you will) so that the sick little psychopath (Maggie, of course) could continue to use it as her very own personal hand puppet, just as she had already done during her own court trial for BRUTALLY MURDERING said "puppet". Did I happen to mention in the previous paragraphs, by any chance, that Hutchison was supposed to be HELPING poor little Maggie RECOVER from her pedophilic-incestual-rape-induced mental trauma?

"Because God hates us, fellow last remaining member of our species; because God fucking HATES us!" Joe leaned over to Jezediah and whispered into his ear, cupping his feather-hands tightly around said ear and frantically glancing from side to side with curiously half-shut eyelids just for added emphasis while Maggie just disgustingly insensitively rolled her eyes at them behind their backs in classic "LOL, first world problems" fashion in response, prompting Hutchison to scornfully nudge the little brat with her right elbow as the two of them finally reached the asylum's admission desk...which, predictably enough, was occupied by none other than Hutchison's newly-wed (not to mention HUGELY bespectacled and blatantly Jewish) turtle husband, Filburt Shellbach, who had also just recently served as Maggie's lawyer in the aforementioned uncle-homicide court case that she had JUST RECENTLY gotten herself entangled in, just to make matters even MORE confusing and stressful.

"Wow, turtle dove, why are you so completely incapable of holding down the same job for more than one short, sad month at a time?" Hutchison curiously asked Filburt, tilting her head quizzically (not to mention involuntarily) as her admittedly rather bizarre method of punctuating the question. "And why did you suddenly decide to have THIS job out of all of the options available, pardon my asking? HMM HM HM HM HM!" Hutchison continued asking, punctuating her second question by placing her hook (right) hand directly over her absurdly massive pearly-white grin and letting out an insufferably loud, high-pitched and generally teasing giggle that also caused her entire body to hyperactively shake up and down, much to Maggie's and Filburt's deeply rooted chagrin.

"KNEE-SLAPPINGLY funny…" Filburt jadedly thought to himself, blushing deeply and sighing exasperatedly while Jezediah and Joe struggled desperately to hold back their own laughter at his expense; meanwhile, Maggie just exhaustedly shrugged her aching, tightly bound shoulders and nodded her equally aching, horrifically traumatized head in agreement.

"Anyway, missy, I'LL tell you why I decided to become the local male secretary of this joint; to be frank with you, it was mostly just so that I could keep an eye on Little Miss Crazy here and make absolutely sure that she wouldn't attempt anything FUNNY (suddenly dramatically outstretches his neck and thrusts his face violently at Maggie, causing her to startledly flinch backward in response) with my precious and beloved WIFE (thrusts his face at Maggie a second time, understandably eliciting far less of a reaction when compared to the first time) here!" Filburt slammed his palms down onto his desk and angrily explained to Hutchison, shooting Maggie several soul-piercingly mean looks in the process while she just glanced from side and side and whistled nervously, prompting a remarkably bitter utterance of "YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE, LADY" from the poor, scaly blue bastard in the process while Hutchison irritatedly placed her hand(s) on her hips, distrustfully cleared her throat and sternly glared at him in response.

"FILBURT! How dare you treat my precious little pink-noggined cupcake like such a detestably hardened criminal? Can't you see how adorably, youthfully innocent she is? Come on, just LOOK at those big, bulbous eyes and likewise, freckly cheeks, the latter of which I just want to pinch and squeeze SO unbearably badly! WHO'S A GOOD GIRL, MAGGIE? OOH, YES, YOU ARE; YES, YOU ARE, SWEETUMS!" Hutchison broke down into a manic fit of pure, unbridled maternal joy and began squealing quite nearly incoherently, VERILY much to Filburt's continued and rapidly intensifying chagrin as he glared exasperatedly (not to mention relatably) at the show's (Rocko's Modern Life's) audience while Hutchison playfully stroked her fingers and hook through Maggie's hair and forcefully pinched her soft, chubby cheeks with the former, giggling and shrieking and grinning from ear to ear (with her jaws as comically wide open as they could possibly go, no less) like a thoroughly certified MANIAC all the while.

"CUCKOO...CUCKOO...CUCKOO..." Jezediah and Joe worriedly signaled to each other with their index fingers while Maggie just warmly blushed with excessive-coddling-induced embarrassment in response to being picked up and cuddled like a literal life-size teddy bear by Hutchison; meanwhile, Filburt just impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk and smugly blinked his eyes (complete with hilariously over-the-top cartoon sound effects for not one but BOTH of said actions, no less) in overwhelmingly eager anticipation of the hopefully soon-to-come point in time at which Hutchison would perhaps FINALLY stop bone-crunchingly squeezing Maggie to death with both arms and smothering her rapidly purple-turning, visibly suffocating, desperately-begging-for-her-to-immediately-cease-and-desist face with wet, sloppy kisses.

"GOD DAMN IT, ARE YOU FREAKING DONE YET?!" Filburt furiously slammed his palms onto his desk and yelled at the tops of his ever-loving lungs at Hutchison, finally getting her to snap out of her obnoxiously girly delusions of Maggie being even an EIGHTH as innocent as she looked and gently set the poor, nauseated and weirdly aroused little demon-spawn back down onto the floor again.

"FOR HARRY HANUKKAH'S EVER-LOVING SAKE, YOU'VE GOT PAPERWORK TO FILL OUT HERE! THIS PATHETIC LITTLE SCUM-SUCKER'S IDENTITY AIN'T JUST GONNA CONFIRM IT-FUCKING-SELF, YOU KNOW!" Filburt continued angrily yelling at Hutchison, yanking out a thickly stuffed clipboard from the top-left drawer of his desk and slamming it down onto said desk with his left hand while gently, carefully providing Hutchison with her obligatory ink-based and conspicuously phallic-shaped writing utensil with his right.

"Say, how do you suppose a cat and a turtle...YOU KNOW...(pfft)...(snicker)..." Joe began whispering to Jezediah, causing both of them to childishly place their hands over the mouths of their beaks and giggle like little schoolgirls at the mere thought of what the former of the two birds was about to say...only to then immediately stop dead in their tracks and gulp audibly in terror as Filburt shot yet another soul-piercingly intense death glare at the both of them in response.

"Alright, sweetie; now you're just going to have to spoon-feed me EVERY LAST BIT of your personal information, KAY?!" Hutchison suddenly turned away from her beloved husband, squatted down onto her left knee, proudly displayed her newly acquired clipboard to Maggie and merrily explained to her in the process, punctuating her ever-so-lovably naive request with a freakishly sharp-angled (and, again, involuntary) tilt of her head just to make Maggie feel even MORE helpless, scared and generally uncomfortable.

"Well, what the hell, it's not like I really have anything LEFT to lose..." Maggie hung her poor little head straight down, weakly shrugged her shoulders yet again and dejectedly thought/sighed to herself, leaning directly toward Hutchison's ever-so-invitingly funnel-shaped left ear and cartoonishly extending the "fly" portion of her mouth directly into said ear's external canal so that she could nervously whisper an incredibly large multitude of her personal secrets into it...but not before giving it a nice big lesbian tongue bath, of course!

"OH, MY! What a truly kinky young LASS you must be indeed!" Hutchison raised her eyebrows as high as they could go and gasped in surprise, blushing and smiling warmly from how intensely relaxing the sensation of Maggie's moist, dripping tongue digging its way through her ear canal and systematically eviscerating every last bit of unwelcome earwax buildup from it really AND truly was.

"No human language can even BEGIN to describe the pure and utter disgust I'm feeling right now..." Filburt groaned, turning sickly green and gagging loudly in disbelief as Maggie pushed her tantalizingly serpentine tongue all the way through Hutchison's ear canal into her rather bizarrely flaky-surfaced and cracked-feeling tympanic membrane (eardrum), causing Hutchison to loudly yelp in pain due to how abnormally sensitive and fragile the just-recently-and-extremely-crudely-repaired hearing organ of hers had become.

"MEE-YOWCH! I literally JUST got that poor little bastard glued back together by the local witch doctor, you know!" Hutchison VERY inelegantly wailed and whined in pure agony.

"Lemme tell ya, Joe; I've seen some awfully weird fetishes in my time, but talk about one that doesn't make even the slightest LICK of sense to HEAR about!" Jezediah smugly quipped to his "heterosexual" life partner Joe, causing the two of them to bust out into tears of pure, unadulterated joy and roll on the floor laughing hysterically while Filburt pulled out a nice big paper bag from his middle-left desk drawer and violently heaved his guts into it as Maggie finally retracted her now-revoltingly-hairy-and-waxy tongue from the now-steamingly-warm-faced-and-aroused Hutchison's ear and indulgently licked her lips, making sure to also burp obnoxiously loudly in the process just to make herself come across as even MORE of a repulsive, gluttonous pig.

"ISN'T THAT RIGHT, MISTER XANDER?! IF I'M A FUCKING EARWAX-CONSUMING PIG, YOU CAN SAY SO!" Maggie dementedly laughed and shrieked at ME, the writer, to which I myself had literally no words whatsoever, while everyone else in the room BESIDES Maggie just exasperatedly face-palmed themselves in response, with Filburt in particular VERY tightly clutching his head with both hands as if he was desperately struggling to repress traumatic memories of a certain Maggie X Flecko rape scene from stories past (probably because he WAS) while Maggie and Hutchison reluctantly returned to their initial secret-whispering positions and finally cut the crap once and for all...for better or worse.

"Okay, so (psst psst psst psst psst)..." Maggie nervously glanced from side to side and began secretively whispering (for REAL this time) into Hutchison's left ear while Hutchison eagerly began filling out Maggie's profile paperwork in response, and also while Jezediah and Joe began irritatingly giggling and snickering various lesbian-mocking jokes to each other under their breaths (again, much to Filburt's VERY evilly glaring chagrin).

"Okay, I think I've got the gist of it!" Hutchison remarkably calmly and silently reassured Maggie in a very soothingly and gently whispering, almost ASMR-esque tone of voice as she frantically looked over the mere FIRST of the rather absurdly numerous pages that had just been placed before her. "Alright, so your skin color is actually light gray but is politically labeled as being black for some stupid reason...your middle name is Rebellious (rolls her eyes and sarcastically mutters the word "RIGHT" to herself)...your sexual orientation is (blushes intensely) Pansexual...your hair color is naturally ginger (snickers mockingly) but is dyed pink...your favorite food condiment is your own vomit (gags)...your uncle was exactly three times your physical age at the time when he raped you (dry-heaves)...your own physical age is indeed 12 (pukes and wipes her mouth disgustedly)...your personal favorite breakfast food is waffles, especially when eating out (sighs regretfully as Jezediah, Joe, and even Filburt begin laughing and giggling intensely while Maggie humiliatedly blushes and dearly wishes that she was still able to face-palm herself in response while stuck in her straitjacket) and your best friend Rayna used to share the exact same toothbrush with each other (gags yet again)...your sexual organs are already fully developed at your current age (Jezediah and Joe suddenly start grinning and raising their eyebrows at each other in the classic "are you thinking what I'm thinking" type of look, prompting Filburt to smack both of them squarely across the face while Hutchison just warmly blushes and starts jealously giggling at the mere thought of being able to make her very own baby at such an astonishingly young age)..."


"Favorite place to have inside someone else's brain...favorite place to in a sewage dump...first male crushes...were your own big brother and father..." Hutchison tiredly and bloodshot-eyedly finished rattling (and checking) off once and for all, collapsing backward and face-up onto the floor in complete and utter exhaustion while Filburt and the Jez/Joe duo had already done much of the same quite some time ago.

"Oh,'s my chance, isn't it...oh dear God, I've been waiting for this moment for SO FREAKING LONG...the chance to finally taste a REAL HUM-ANIMAL WOMAN'S FEET...OHHHHHH, MOMMY..." Maggie ecstatically, ridiculously hornily whispered and moaned to herself, flopping down onto her cripplingly straitjacket-bound thorax (chest) and gleefully biting down on Hutchison's right high heel so that she could yank it right off with her dainty little teeth, causing Hutchison to mildly quiver in her sleep but thankfully not actually wake as her gorgeous right sole was revealed.

"Oh, FUCK me..." Maggie somewhat regretfully thought to herself, taking rather disgustingly indulgent advantage of her otherwise-useless new physical position (to say the LEAST) and quite literally drooling with delight all the while as she playfully peeked STRAIGHT up Hutchison's skirt and wholesomely feasted her eyes on the blissfully unaware Asian-American bombshell's deliciously hot-pink Victoria's Secret panties, lovely white polka dots and all. "She's so incredibly tired and overworked that she probably isn't even going to NOTICE my sexy little tongue brushing against these absolutely DIVINE little beauties of hers...oh, sweet LORD, these SOLES...I must resist...I MUST...ah, fuck it, what am I even waiting for?" Maggie internally monologued to herself, reluctantly yanking off Hutchison's left high heel and causing her to twitch ever-so-slightly more noticeably in her sleep as an amazingly cliched "devil/angel" duo of clones of herself suddenly materialized itself onto Maggie's shoulders. The first of the two to appear, naturally, was the Devil Maggie.

"Yo, homie, what the FUCK do yo' stupid bitch ass be waitin' for, mutha-fucka?! Send in yo' mutha-fuckin' tongue to soak-soak those foot-a-ma-jiggas, dawg; YEAH, mutha-fucka!" Devil Maggie suddenly appeared on Regular Maggie's left shoulder and began crassly commanding her in obscenely stereotypical slang of a variety that I'd personally rather not go into detail about, to which Regular Maggie responded, in an ever-so-faint whisper: "I have barely any idea what in the actual fuck you just said, but I think I agree with it, motherfucker".

"Come on, Maggie, don't let that stupid crack-dealing (African American) tell YOU what to do!" Angel Maggie, who was now dressed up as a rather oddly pointy-headed bedsheet ghost, suddenly appeared on Regular Maggie's right shoulder and began pathetically begging her in yet another obscenely stereotypical accent, with this one naturally being of the Southern United States redneck variety. "Why not just be a proud, civilized, Bible-indoctrinated, HWITE-supremacist citizen of the United States of A-MEY-REE-CUH and NOT run the un-necessary risk of contracting such an awful, belligerent, castrating, debilitating epidemic as Yellow Fever from such a gay, hemorrhoid-riddled, inferior, JANKY-EYED-"

"Alright, that's enough of that, you fat fucking whore!" Regular Maggie hissed furiously at Angel Maggie, disgustedly flinging her off of her right shoulder WITH said shoulder while the Devil Maggie on her left ever-so-excitedly joined her in opening her freakishly large concealed nostrils comically widely and grinning as delightfully maliciously as she could possibly manage from ear to ear as she slowly but surely extended her mouth/tongue progressively closer to Hutchison's drool-inducingly beautiful feet...and closer...AND CLOSER...UNTIL FINALLY...FINALLY(!)...

"OOOH...OH, THEY SMELL LIKE MY DEAD CHILD-RAPIST UNCLE'S DICK CHEESE MIXED WITH EARWAX AND VOMIT...AND THEY EVEN TASTE LIKE IT, TOO...OHHH...HOW UTTERLY DELIGHTFUL...SO WONDERFULLY AGED...25 YEARS, NO LESS..." Maggie began orgasmically moaning, whispering and crooning as she not only licked Hutchison's breathtakingly soft and sweaty yellow soles from their heels all the way up to their quintuple-each, adorably wiggling and curling toes AND vice-versa (as well as sucked out every last drop of jam from in-BETWEEN her lovely little toes) but also buried her nose ludicrously deeply into the lovingly purring and moaning Hutchison's scrumptiously smooth arches and inhaled their boner-inducing stench so ridiculously deeply and vigorously that the pure, unadulterated essence of it traveled all the way through her nostrils into her adorably spongy, fleshy, pulsating, wrinkly AND demented little brain, formed itself into a nice big pair of hands, and then finally used its index fingers to press the Digestive-Assistance Vomit, Shrieking Orgasm and Spraying Nosebleed buttons on her Central Nervous Super-Computer's control panel in that exact specified order.

"BLEEEAAAAAOOOOOOGGGHHHHHH!" Maggie hilariously-awkwardly shrieked and moaned at the tops of her ever-loving, foot-odor-polluted lungs, puking all over Hutchison's bare feet AND spraying out a grotesquely heaping portion of her gooey, snotty nose blood all over them while also wholesomely estrogen-wetting her panties in the process, waking up everyone in the entire room with a MASSIVE start and causing the now-fully-awake Hutchison to reflexively kick her brutally hard in her now-thoroughly-vomit-and-blood-and-foot-sweat-soaked face and bloodily knock her loose tooth right out of her pretty little mouth in the process!

"Does...does anyone have a spare tooth I could borrow?" Maggie dizzily slurred to herself as she laid absentmindedly on the ground, sprawled out LIKE a dead hobo all the while as Hutchison and Filburt just disgustedly shook their heads and sneered at her in seemingly irrevocable disgust and hatred (over something downright ludicrously petty, no less).

"No, but I think I'VE got a spare FUCKING BEATING FOR YA, YOU UTTERLY DEPLORABLE FUCKING INSECT!" Filburt turned bright red with pure, unadulterated, steam-shooting-out-the-ears, locomotive-whistle-sound-effect-boasting rage, (quite literally) animalistically pouncing onto Maggie and tackling her face-up onto the floor with deliciously, spectacularly entertainingly child-abusive intent while Hutchison quickly began to direct her formerly Maggie-centric feelings of disgust toward an entirely new (and blue) target.

"WOO-HOO! BETTER THAN PRO WRESTLING AND SHITPOSTING ALL OVER THE DONALD FRUMP SUBREDDIT!" Jezediah and Joe boisterously hollered and laughed with excitement, pulling out nice big tubs of popcorn and proudly, patriotically watching from the asylum's entrance hallway's waiting seats as a fully grown walking-Jewish-stereotype man clearly based off of Woody Allen suddenly grew giant nerd-rage-induced Hulk muscles and beat the ever-loving shit out of a mentally deranged little US-immigrant black girl from the Third World in the very same classic "dust cloud" style seen in Looney Tunes and the like.

"TRYING TO LICK MY WIFE'S FUCKING FEET IN A GOD-DAMNED STRAITJACKET, ARE YOU?! WELL, HOW DO YOU LIKE ME BUSTING UP YOUR PATHETIC, POOFY-LIPPED FUCKING PICKANINNY FACE, YOU LITTLE SHIT-WEASEL?! HUH?! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?! HOW DO YOU FUCKING LIKE IT, YOU GOD-DAMNED SYMPATHY-SUCKING LIBERAL LEECH?! HAH HAH HAH! AHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH! OHH HO HO HOOOH! HUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAH!" Filburt rather impressively (albeit RABIDLY) tore Maggie's ENTIRE straitjacket clean off with his bare hands and began horrifically shrieking and laughing in a fit of maniacal, sadistic glee as he clenched his hands into frightfully feral fists of fidelity and began savagely smashing the miserable, miniscule Maggie's mug into a bloody biryani brunch of bruises with a nice big vichyssoise vessel of venomous verbiage that veered most vehemently verbose on the side.

"HA! YOU CALL THAT RIPPING OUT MY SPLEEN? You wouldn't know how to rip out a spleen if you- OH, GOD, MY SPLEEN! MY PANCREAS! MY LEG!" Maggie began wildly shrieking in pain as Filburt horrifically ripped the former of the three body parts right out of her chest, kicked her brutally hard in the middle one, and snapped the latter like a just-barely-still-holding-together twig, spitting on her beaten, battered, only-barely-still-alive remains in almost-immeasurable disgust as the dust finally cleared out from the room.

"Oh my dear Lord, Joe, is she seriously DEAD?" Jezediah gasped in shock, with Joe equally-surprisingly following suit as the two of them AND Hutchison alike covered each of their mouths with both hands (well, actually, technically "her left hand and right hook" in Hutchison's case) and stared speechlessly in horror at what Filburt had just done to his own wife's almost-completely defenseless new mental patient who technically wasn't even a teenager yet.

"N-NO...BUT...BUT I SURE...D-DO...W-WISH...(coughs up a huge amount of blood and roughly half of her teeth)...I...I W-WAS...(sputters even more blood)..." Maggie weakly, helplessly stammered and cried, lying face-up on the floor and involuntarily twitching her agonizingly broken left leg, upper left arm and lower right arm with what remarkably little functionality her brain, let alone body, still had left in it at that moment as she very unceremoniously slipped into unconsciousness without uttering even another hint of a word.


"WHAT?! What do you MEAN, Filburt isn't guilty in the traditional sense?!" Hutchison yelled at Judge Edward Bighead in a fit of outrage from the plaintiff table...which, surely enough, was populated solely by Hutchison, Rocko, and Maggie's limp, comatose body, while the defendant table was populated solely by Filburt and his own ludicrously oversized ego.

"Let me just show you a nice big list I've compiled of all of the crazy crap he's done...much of which actually HAS, in fact, been officially PROVEN, mind you!" Hutchison growled lividly, literally pulling a giant, comically oversized scroll listing every single one of said crimes right out of thin air.

"Let's see here, SHALL we?" Hutchison smugly implored Mr. Bighead, pulling out a magnifying glass and diligently scanning her way through the list with her exceptionally sharp and vivid feline eyesight (more on that later) while Rocko stood up in his chair and dutifully held and "scrolled" said list for her. "He's attempted to sacrifice the very LIFE of his so-called best friend, Rocko, to a giant wallaby-eating bird just so that he could STEAL one of said bird's chintzy old wigs (Rocko sarcastically nods his head at Filburt and says "YEAH, FRIEND")...he's also served as Heffer's accomplice in voyeuristically filming Rocko STARK-naked without ANY permission FROM the poor little guy whatsoever and then publicly distributing the result as a full-profit porno film (Rocko does the exact same thing as before, except that he says "YEAH, FRIEND" louder this time)...he's destroyed the entire world in literally just ONE measly Wheel Of Fortune spin (Filburt looks over at her and yells "HEY, THAT WAS JUST BAD LUCK ON MY PART")...he's roughly one entire FOURTH of the reason why Wacky Delly exists (Filburt looks over at her again and yells "BUT THAT WAS THE BEST EPISODE ON THIS SHOW; IT WAS BETTER THAN BOTH 'I HAVE NO SON' AND 'CRUISING' COMBINED")..."


"...he's willingly shattered my left eardrum (Rocko once again glares at Filburt and says "yeah"), poisoned the entire local water supply of O-Town with burnt plastic from his OWN accidental porno videos of me AND him getting naked TOGETHER (Rocko glares at Filburt yet AGAIN and yells "YEAH"), and last but not least, he's even beaten both Rocko AND Maggie alike nearly to DEATH!" Hutchison forcefully slammed her list onto the plaintiff table (startling Rocko into falling over backward from his chair and hitting the floor head-first, which naturally ended up sending him into yet another coma as a rather familiar pair of anthropomorphic-beaver "hospital patient fetchers" suddenly barged into the courtroom out of nowhere, lifted Rocko's chair onto their stretcher and dutifully carried it off into their hospital van while Rocko himself just lifelessly laid face-up on the floor and began involuntarily twitching his legs like yet another dying insect) and yelled furiously at Mr. Bighead while his assistant judge and "lovely" wife Mrs. Bighead just nonchalantly sat and filed her nails behind him.

"AND WHY IN GOD'S NAME SHOULD I CARE?!" Mr. Bighead angrily and impatiently slammed his gavel against his lectern and hatefully bellowed at Hutchison, involuntarily spraying his slimy, nasty phlegm all over her face. "Only a scant FEW of the crimes that you just listed actually DID sound even remotely important anyway!" he continued exasperatedly, throwing his arms out beside him.

"He did THIS to poor little Maggie just for worshipping my feet, for Christ's sake!" Hutchison passionately cried out in a fit of frustration, lifting Maggie's horrifically mangled, only marginally still-alive body out of its seat and revoltedly displaying it to Mr. Bighead. "Honestly, how much more freaking insane can you GET?!"

"Exactly, sweetums!" Mrs. Bighead, who had literally JUST finished filing her nails, did the classic "oh no, you didn't" gesture and smugly teased her.

"OH, NO..." Hutchison gasped, hanging her head and lifelessly dangling her arms straight down toward the floor in hardly anything short of complete and utter dismay. "FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, PLEASE DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU ARE ACTUALLY SERIOUSLY PLANNING TO ADMIT FILBURT AS A NEW INMATE OF-"

"THE ASYLUM? WHY, OF COURSE!" Mr. Bighead heartily bellowed and laughed at poor Hutch's expense. "How much more reason COULD you honestly have given us to make that decision?" he continued laughing as his doting wife, Mrs. Bighead, finally got up out of her seat and walked up to where HIS was so that she could give him a nice, big, victorious high-five.

"I'M LUCKY...I'M LUCKY...I'M LUCKY..." Filburt began chanting to himself while Rocko and Hutchison irritatedly escorted him out of the building with Maggie in tow.


"And THAT'S exactly how you and I ended up HERE for the time being!" Hutchison finally finished explaining to the still-heavily-bandage-bound-and-entirely-immobilized Maggie (for whom this was being treated as a BEDTIME STORY, sadistically enough), finishing up with a HORRIBLY uncalled-for cameo appearance by Flecko's button-eyed, hideously stuffed corpse.

"ISN'T IT JUST THE GREATEST STORY SINCE YOU AND I HAVING A BABY TOGETHER?!" Hutchison cartoonishly flapped Flecko's mouth up and down and sarcastically asked Maggie in an atrociously botched attempt at impersonating his voice; as you can probably imagine, Maggie just muffledly screamed, cried and wailed in unbearable agony through her full-body bandages in response.

"AWW, MY STORY MADE YOU SO HAPPY THAT YOU'RE SHEDDING TEARS OF JOY!" Hutchison naively crooned and laughed, gently setting Flecko down onto a nearby chair and sliding over to Maggie's recuperating bed so that she could give her a nice, big, bone-crunching hug.

"MMMGGGHHH!" Maggie loudly whimpered and shrieked in agony, with several large tears leaking from her bloodshot, restless eyes as her torso bandages became HEAVILY stained with blood.

"Oh, don't worry; I'll just go and grab some blue, wavy Relief lines from the nearest supply closet for you! Hang TIGHT, snootchie-bootchums!" Hutchison giggled merrily as she swiftly slid out of the room, leaving Maggie helpless, dying and afraid as always.

"I...H-HATE...M-MY LIFE..." Maggie weakly stammered to herself as she reluctantly fell asleep and painstakingly waited to either (preferably) die or incredibly contrivedly make it to the next chapter simply because the story's plot needed her to. Unfortunately, the readings on her heartbeat monitor clearly indicated the latter, so stay tuned to find out what happens next...