?Mr. Jones,? came the answer.

?Okay . . . Mr. Jones,? Albert replied, writing the name down on his pad. ?So, why have you come to see me? What is the problem?? He looked at the tall, dark, impeccably dressed man who looked to be above any psychological problem whatsoever.

?I have no problem,? Talomar replied curtly.

?Okay, then why are you here, Mr. Jones??

?I tried to kill my wife last night.?

The pen dropped out of Albert?s hand. He reached down for it and his pad slipped off his lap. He picked them up and adjusted his glasses. ?Okay, let?s see if I got this right. Last night you tried to kill your wife.?

?That?s correct.?

?Did she call the police??

?No.?

?Did she run away??

?No.?

?What did she do, Mr. Jones??

?Do you mean what did she do to make me try to kill her, or what did she do after I tried to kill her??

?Let?s try after you tried to kill her. What happened then? What did she do?? After the last few days, Albert was beginning to feel he needed a vacation.

?Well, she tied herself to our bed, I whipped her, and we had the greatest sex imaginable.? Talomar took out a cigar and a lighter. ?If you don?t mind.? He didn?t wait for an answer because he really didn?t care if Albert minded or not. He was beginning to wonder if he had chosen the right psychologist to help with his marriage problems. Albert was simply the first name in the phone book under ?Psychologist ? Abnormal, Child, Marriage and Suicide.?

Albert coughed?or perhaps choked. ?You tried to kill her and she tied herself to your bed!??

?Well, it was either that or leave me.? He blew smoke to the ceiling and crossed his left leg over his right knee.

Albert was silent for a moment, scribbling notes on his pad.

?Maybe we should go back to the beginning, Mr. Jones. What was it that led to your desire to kill your wife??

?Are you really going to be able to help me, Albert?? Talomar looked him in the eye. ?Because I would hate to think that I?m going to be wasting my time here. I hate to waste my time.? He looked around. ?Do you have an ashtray, Albert??

Albert blinked and recovered his composure. ?Y..yes.. er?an?a-ashtray...I?ll get it.? He fumbled around in his desk draw and pulled out one of those ubiquitous clear glass ashtrays and slid it over to ?Mr. Jones?.

?Thank you, Albert. It was the castle.?

?Castle??

?Yes. That was the final straw.?

?She didn?t like your home??

?Home? What the hell are you talking about, Albert? Of course she likes our home! I walked into the Inn and there she is, wanting me to put together a castle for her! And not just any castle, but a fuckin? 4,000 piece sonofabitch, real-as-shit, glow-in-the-dark, moat-up-your-ass castle!!? Talomar leaned across to Albert, ?Tell me, Albert, do I look like a man who plays with toys??

?N-no, sir. Not at all.? Albert was no longer taking notes.

?Well?I AM!? Tal puffed on the cigar. ?Just not those kind of toys. Those are toys for kids, dammit! Can you blame me for wanting to kill her??

Albert thought he might get sick. He looked at the clock and only ten minutes had passed. He swallowed the lump in his throat. ?Let me see if I understand this correctly, Mr. Jones. You say you tried to kill your wife because she asked you to build a toy castle for her while in public? Is that correct, Mr. Jones??

Talomar glared at him, then took another puff on his cigar. ?Oh, no Albert. That was simply the last straw. There?s a whole lot more that led up to that.?

?We still have twenty minutes, Mr. Jones.?

Tal looked at him and sniffed. ?Do you have any Milk Duds??

?So, Mr. Jones, you imply that your wife has a knack for getting you angry. Is that a fair understanding of the situation??

?No, not at all. Actually, if anything, she has a knack of making me smile. Don?t get me wrong, Albert, just because I tried to kill my wife doesn?t mean I don?t love her with all my being. She?s my angel. She brightens my day, every day. She has a way of putting the world into perspective for me. When I?ve worked all day managing ?commodities? going to and from over two hundred and thirty planets, I find her antics to be refreshing and amusing. Plus, she?s very attentive and an amazing lover in bed. She makes the Kama Sutra totally obsolete with her creativity. Every day when we get home, it?s like a smorgasbord of sexual delights. You never know what you?re getting.?

?Hmmm?so when you see your wife, Clarabell, you never know what you?re going to get??

?Exactly.?

?Is it almost like having, say, umm?twelve wives in one??

?YES! Actually, you?re closer to the truth than you realize. You see, my wife does have multiple personalities. I wouldn?t mind so much if I could just control which one I was getting.? Talomar tapped his chin, ?Have you ever seen those bop the gopher in the head games at the carnivals? If you have, that?s what living with my wife is like. You try to bop one personality and another pops up and taunts you until you feel like bopping that one too.?

?So, is that what you were doing the other night? Just trying to bop these different personalities??

?Fuck no. I was trying to kill the bitch! That?s what bothers me, Albert. I love her more than anything in this world. I shouldn?t be trying to kill her. It would make me very sad.?

Albert was totally confused. ?Maybe it would help if you told me how you tried to kill her. Did you use a gun? Or a knife??

Talomar laughed, ?No, no?that wouldn?t have done anything at all.? Then he frowned, remembering what he had done. ?After I had pinned her to the wall at the inn, I dragged her out by her hair and transported us to the castle. She gets me so angry, doc. I don?t think she understands the power I have.?

?I think you're right. And when you reached the castle, what did you do then??

?I chained her to the wall in the library. You see, my torture chamber in the dungeon still needs to be outfitted.?

Albert?s eyes bugged out. ?Torture chamber? Never mind, I don?t want to know. Go on, please.?

?Well, then I got my knife that I use for branding. It?s a ceremonial knife. Very special and razor sharp.?

?You stabbed her!??? Albert was shaking.

?No. I told you, that would do nothing. I cut her clothes off. It was no big deal. You see, when she goes around in public she often doesn?t wear much.?

?I noticed,? Albert mumbled.

?YOU NOTICED!??

?I mean, I KNOW THIS often happens with women who are similar to your wife, Clara.?

?Ah?yes. Well, then I got two whips. One was designed for play. You know, bondage fun.?

Albert was beginning to sweat. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

?The other was a kurt. That one is not for fun. It would rip her skin off her. He father, Lucius, gave it to me as a wedding present. I like him. He's a good man. In fact, I like all her family. Well, except Lusiphur Blood. He sucks a big one. But the rest of her family is decent. Especially her Aunt Tasha. She's damn hot! Anyway, her father gave me the kurt.?

Albert removed his glasses and wiped his face with his handkerchief. ?He obviously knows his own daughter.?

?Well, my wife just kept prodding me with her words. I struck her twice with the bondage whip. That?s when she just started to curse me even more. I lost it, doc. I swung the kurt at her.?

?You mean, you hurt her with that whip that rips the flesh??

Tal shook his head. ?No." He sighed deeply. "I just couldn?t do it. I deflected the blow at the last moment and ripped apart the books that were next to her head.?

?What happened then??

?She asked me to release her.?

?And. . . ??

?I released her. I was going to release her in every way, Albert. I was going to leave her. I hated myself for having those feelings. I love that woman, Albert! I?ve never wanted to hurt her before and it scared me.?

"Well, if it's any consolation, Mr. Jones, it's not that unusual for people to wish there spouses dead."

"Yeah, but they just dream about their spouse getting hit by a Mack truck; you know, so they don't have to pay alimony, split their fortunes or avoid church persecution. That's not the way it was with me. I was literally going to rip her pretty little head off with my bare hands! I was scared, Albert!"

Albert looked at his notes. ?And that?s when she tied herself to your bed and you whipped her again and then had incredible sex??

?Yeah.? Talomar was very despondent. ?What can I do, Albert? I want to be a better husband for her. She deserves better. She doesn?t deserve to be killed ? at least not most of the time.?

?Well, Mr. Jones, if you are dedicated to the goal of being a better husband, I think I can help you.?

?You can, doc? Really? You can help me to be a better husband for my angel??

?I think I can. We?ll start with our next meeting.?