‘Next please!’

I stood up, straightened my skirt like all common women, and made my way into the doctor’s room. The doctor cut straight to the chase.

‘There’s a new anti-depressant’, he said, purple teeth shining under the bright sterile lights, ‘it’s called Murdozadine and does all sorts of wondrous things’.

‘Sound a little… murderous’, I feebly commented.

‘Hmm yes, it does rather, doesn’t it? I hadn’t thought of that!’ He threw his head back and laughed, ‘Aha-ha-ha-ahahaha! Now, the thing you need to know about it is that it makes you feel like you’re on a beach- totally blissful, like you don’t have a care in the world’.

‘Sounds great!’

‘Yes, rather, but then there is the other thing about it as well’.

‘Which is?’

‘Well you’re on this beach which is great, yes? And you’re sipping a frothy pina colada, which is also great, yes? Well then imagine that all these lovely things are happening, and then you get to stab the nice waitress in the face and claw out her eyes and then wear them as earrings’.

A slight pause. ‘What?’

‘Murdozadine makes you feel on top of the world, but only why you’re sucking the soul out of other people, so-to-speak,’ he laughed again, and I could see right up his nose to his brain. ‘It’s a way of making sad people feel good while they kill each other off, if they’re on the same drug. And you can do it any way, you know- stab someone with a pitchfork, shoot them in the face with a potato gun. I even heard of someone that fed someone else the pills and they battled it out in the street, using stray cats as furry improvised maces. Genius!’

‘But… why?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s the best thing to do, really. There’s a thin line between homicide and suicide, yes? We let you tear each other to pieces so you can go into death smiling. Most humane thing to do, yes?’

‘But being depressed doesn’t mean you want to die, not all the time’.

‘Well we all die anyway, don’t we? We’re just kind of alleviating the suffering, yes? You’d do better to stop with the questions and just take the pills, you’ll feel better for it. It’s a pretty entertaining way to go anyway, and I haven’t had much of a laugh today,’ he said, laughing.

I took the pills from him and swallowed them, almost convinced that it was the best thing to do. But then of course it was, and I stabbed him in the face confidently with his pencil, and started laughing myself. Then I shoved his body under the desk next to the other body that was under there, removed his doctor’s jacket to dress myself with, and sat in his chair.

‘Next, please!’


About Anna

Author of the Insanity Aquarium. Current fears include time as a concept, the squishiness of my right eyeball, and not being able to open this jar.
This entry was posted in Humour and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

25 Responses to Murdozadine

  1. This is lovely.


    • Anna says:

      Thank you so much!


    • You’re welcome. The big brother thing is scary to me (a world where doctors “help” you), but scarier still is the idea that mental health diagnosis is a function of huge corporate monster machines making weird little pills… Eeek. Your post reminded me of these things… And of course there’s nothing more refreshing than a couple of vivid homicidal fantasies.


  2. Anna says:

    Ladies and jellyspoons, due to immense alcohol consumption over the weekend at the Slam Dunk festival, I shan’t be posting any Insanity tomorrow morning. Instead I shall be nursing an achey neck from far too much headbanging, a hoarse throat from screaming ‘I want to be dead with my friends’ repeatedly, and a broken heart from being too hungover to post anything. But mostly the neck thing.

    But keep your eyes peeled over the next few days on Bunny Waffles for a review of the festival- and a few photos of myself and my good friend Lyndsay being far too hot to do anything but sit on the concrete floor and drink more alcohol. And of course, next week, all shall be back to normal here on the TIA, just bear with me for a week whilst I try not to think of the guy that threw up in front of me.

    Painful, and worth it :D


  3. darkjade68 says:

    You’re goina hate me, but I’m also Awarding you My “Dedicated Follower Award”, once again, not goina LInk it, Lol

    Check it out



  4. darkjade68 says:

    And Now I’m Hitting your Main Blog with The “Inspiring Blog” Award, Lol

    I gave you a long enough Break from Awards, Lol

    I won’t link it cuz it will prob send me to SPAM, but Check out My Blog for it

    Gratz Anna



  5. bkr12 says:

    really very funny even though that scene will be playing in my head on my next visit to the doctor…!


  6. I read this on the weekend and thought it was fantastic so I nominated you for the Sunshine Award at


    • Anna says:

      Why thank you, Drive Thru Guy! When I get my ‘Awards’ page back up and running, I will proudly add this to it :D


  7. Pingback: Special Presentation « lifeinthedrivethru

  8. Pete Howorth says:

    Man I gotta get me some of these!


  9. Anne Schilde says:

    Ugh! Mood “stablilizers”. Why can’t they just help you cope with being depressed instead of feeding you a frontal lobotomy in a pill? Grr!

    “I could see right up his nose to his brain,” was a really nice touch! I love the ending!


    • Anna says:

      After the amount I’ve been on, you’d like to think something beneficial has come out of them… alas, no. But then I wouldn’t be quite so deranged without them. Little pleasures and all that :)


  10. “Like all commen women”–hee hee, great line. The ending was quite surprising and wonderful also, and the beginning and middle were fine too.


  11. darkjade68 says:

    Hee Hee, you should Rename this “Next Please”, Lol

    This is a Brilliant Piece Anna
    “purple teeth shining under the bright sterile lights” Awesome

    I really had a Strong Sense of Character from each of them

    And Frankly, I’m glad you Stabbed him, Lol… Err, she stabbed him :D



  12. I must be evil for liking this.


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