"I have written, doctor, about the Great Pigeon Conspiracy before."
"I know, Wiley."
"And they laughed at me, doctor. They said I was crazy. They said I ought to be locked up."
"Please try to remain calm. Here, lie down on this couch."
"Bra-ha, ha, ha, ha!"
"Nurse! A sedative. There, now. Feel better, Wiley? Now tell me all about it."
"I'm talking about pigeons, doctor! They are evil. They are cunning. They are trying to take over the world!"
"Hmmm. Do you hate your mother?"
"My mother is not a pigeon, doctor. I only hate pigeons. They are arrogant. They are ruthless. They will stop at nothing."
"Hmmm. How long have you had this drinking problem?"
"I cannot drink, doctor. I need my wits about me so I can tell the world about the Great Pigeon Conspiracy."
"Please try to calm down, Wiley. Here, place this cold compress against your forehead."
"And now, doctor, now the pigeons want to take over the Baltimore Orioles."
"Hmmm. Any recent trauma to the head?"
"No, no, no, doctor, my head is fine. Didn't you read in the paper yesterday that state officials expect the new baseball stadium at Camden Yards to be infested with pigeons as soon as it opens?
"Didn't you read about how practically everything about the stadium makes it perfect pigeon bait: It is right downtown where most of the 250,000 pigeons in our wretched city hang out. And the stadium is designed with lots of overhanging ledges, exposed steel girders, and hidden, dark nooks and crannies -- just what pigeons love."
"Yes, it is a pity."
"It is more than a pity, doctor, it is a deliberate plot. It is as if the whole project was designed to a pigeon's specifications."
"Hmmm, perhaps you might consider slipping into these restraints."
"No time for that, doctor. And who do you think conspired to stick the stadium downtown in the first place?"
"I thought it was the governor."
"Don't be so naive, doctor. The governor gets his orders directly from the Great Pigeon Conspiracy.
"Before long, doctor, pigeons will be running the whole ballclub. Instead of the Baltimore Orioles, they'll be called the Baltimore Pigeon Toes. And after that, a mere flap of their wings and they'll have all of major league baseball in their talons. Bra-ha, ha, ha!"
"Nurse! Another sedative, if you please."
"Thank you, doctor. I feel better now."
"Quite all right. Now, hmmm, tell me about your unhappy childhood."
"I have always known the truth about pigeons, doctor, even when I was a little child. Like in the story about Adam and Eve, why do you think that snake in the Garden of Eden is always pictured hanging from a tree?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea."
"He was getting instructions from a pigeon. And in Alfed Hitchcock's movie, "The Birds," I am the only one who figured out that pigeons were behind the whole bird rebellion."
"Hmmm, any history of insanity in your family?"
"No, doctor. Why do you ask? Anyway, I shudder whenever I think about pigeons. You see them downtown, strutting around like little lords. Bobbing their disgusting little heads. Clacking about on those ugly orange claws. Dropping those ugly gray feathers everywhere. Man, how I hate the way they look: sidewalk gray; alley rat gray; storm cloud gray."
"Nurse! Come quickly, and bring your club!"
"And their eyes, doctor! Have you ever looked a pigeon in the eye? Egad! Their eyes are cold and pink. You look into them and you can't find a trace of compassion or decency."
"What were you doing peering into pigeons' eyes?"
"Somebody has to watch them, doctor. It is my burden in life. I tell you, doctor, everywhere I go I see pigeons. They crowd me off the sidewalks in the park. They swoop and dive at me in the park. They molest the animals in the zoo. They flap about like vampire bats in my dreams. Now, I learn I can't even go to a baseball game without seeing pigeons. I can't stand it anymore, doctor. Can you help me?"
"Er, what was that you said, doctor?"
"Nothing, Wiley. Just relax."