Psychic Counselling! (A Funny Story) Poem by Edwin Drood

Santa went to a psychiatrist. 'Doc, ' he said, 'I`ve got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I get this weird feeling that there`s somebody under it. I get under the bed, to check it out, but then I think there`s somebody on top of it. I go back and forth, all night long, on top, under, on top, under... You gotta help me, Doc, 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 Santa.
Six months later the doctor met Santa on the street.

'Why didn`t you ever come to see me again? ' asked the psychiatrist.
'For a hundred bucks a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars.'
'Is that so! How did he do that? '

'He told me to cut the legs off the bed! '