WMOB 69.69FM can be heard playing in the distance...

Hello and welcome to Psychopathic Psychiatric Assistance!

Please listen to the automated menu and choose from the following options that best fit your mood and/or symptoms;

If you suffer from necrophilia press one, but we highly doubt you're suffering!

If you are obsessive compulsive, press two, one hundred times!

If you have multiple personalities, press three, four, five, and six!

If you are delusional, press seven and your call will be transferred to Niberoo!

If you are co-dependent ask someone to press eight for you!

If you are paranoid we know who you are, what you want, and we're going to kill you! Press nine and stay on line long enough so that we may trace your call

If you are depressive it really doesn't matter which number you press because no one cares about you and we don't either!

71717171 press dyslexic are you if!

If you have low self-esteem you should probly hang up as your call isn't worth our time!

If you're schizophrenic we're confident the voices in your head will tell you which secret number to press!

If you have short-term memory loss do you seriously remember what you're calling about?

If you have a nervous disorder place your shaken hands on the phone and press whatever numbers you can until you hear a... 

 The sound crackles, the reception lost... damn this terrible signal.

Well, there you have it folks! If your problem is not on the automated menu, please feel free to pop in and ask your questions here. I'm here to solve ALL your problems!

I have meds coming out the wazoo, straight jackets, padded cells and all sharp corners have been rounded off smoothly to avoid injury. There's even a ball pit if you wish to pretend you are 5 years old again. Or maybe you'd just like to get something off your chest?

TeQ sits down behind the reception desk, adjusts his desk items and awaits the first 'visitor'...

​LordBlackwod was sitting in his office and listening to the radio like he usually does in the morning, sipping on his coffee, reading the Rory Times that were still to go public, filtering through papers, checking for accounts to be settled and such. When he hears Father_TeQ pop up on the radio on 69.9 WMOB!!! The last some days had been crazy, there was this move that Blackwod had to deal with switching HQ's, getting his stuff sorted getting the crew sorted. And then there was news from out West about how Leaders in Los Angeles were just dying out there. Some making a mess at funerals, others having problems within the organization causing hands to step down and retire. Was just a lot going on in the mafia world. Expansion never comes without its pains...leadership isn't for everyone!!!

Oh man! TeQ really is in the mood to do some helping. I think I need a word. 

Blackwod picks up his phone and calls the Bam Ba Lam HQ calling Father_TeQ's desk. 

Hey bud? Hows it going? How's your morning coming along? You keeping my chair warm over there?!?!? Blackwod laughs. 

So I was thinking man, you got this thing for the psychiatric hotline going on, I think you need to expand your reach some what man. I think out here in the East the snow has everything slowed down. Everyone is in their houses and sitting in front of fires and just busy on keeping warm out here. But I think out WEST! We got a problem. We got some people in immense stresses out there. Our fellow mobsters out there are killing for no reason, hands retiring....I think you need to push this program out WEST. I know the radio lines get out there but sometimes Its not enough. A phone call just isn't enough. Or sometimes, well when your high up...you don't want your dirty laundry out there, so confidentiality is of the highest order. 

He takes a sip of his coffee as he hears TeQ's response out and his thought process about leading this thing forward. 

Thats great bud! I am with the idea 100%, but maybe you need some trucks out there on the streets perhaps. Like a little walk in clinic for everyone, so they can just come in get a load of their heads...and continue with their criminal lives. 

Blackwod listens some more. 

Mhmm, yup! Yes!!! Ok brotha, that sounds like a plan to me. I wish you the best of luck as you keep this thing moving forward. This WMOB thing is really doing the community a huge service. Fun as always bro. Talk to ya soon....how about we meet up? Weebl's Pikea? Sounds good. See ya then. 

Blackwod hangs up the phone and goes back to doing his work on the desk. 

After spending days in the wilderness contemplating the meaning of existence, Vandlgat searches the streets for high quality vino. 

Coming up on a major square in the city, a small group of mobsters were sitting on empty milk crates, listening to the radio. Vandlgat overhears an advertisement for a psychopathic psychiatric hotline. 

"Sounds like my kind of crowd," Vandlgat says to himself as he approaches a pay phone and deposits his coins.

He listens to his options, pressing the seven and one keys numerous times. He also attempted to alternate between pressing the number nine and checking for voices in his head.

Frustrated and sweating, Vandlgat hangs up the phone and is now a delusional paranoid-schizophrenic with dyslexia..................

Listening to the ad for the hotline on the radio, Paranoia knows he has to try the hotline out himself. After the ad finishes playing, he hurries over to the nearest phone and dials the number. Patiently he listens to the options once more. After listening to them again he finds himself a little conflicted on which one to pick, as a few of them matched him. Does he go with the most obvious option of pressing 9, or perhaps one of the other few options? He takes a moment to decide before going with the most obvious option.

After pressing 9, he waits for a few minutes before letting the paranoia get the best of him. After which he can be seen looking at everyone and everything around him, both cautiously and suspiciously before bolting out of the place to somewhere safe.

It was a long night of drinking, Brielle's head was pounding as she sat at her desk with her arms folded and her head buried in them. LordBlackwod was sitting in his office like he does every morning. The radio was tuned to WMOB 69.69FM but this was nothing new, it was about he only station he listened to. She was usually able to tune out the incoming noise but today was different it was almost as if everything possible was rushing into her ears, making her head pound worse.

She decides to get up and hobble over to the bosses office door, it was wide open like usual. So she just let herself in and plopped herself right on his couch.

Blackwod looks over at Brielle and lets out a hardy chuckle.

"Looks like you had a good night last night, but I sure as hell can tell you you looks miserable right now."

Brielle mumbles a bit, nothing of which made any sense.

She lays on the couch and hears Father_TeQ on the radio talking about some psychopathic psychiatric hotline seconds later she over hears Blackwod on the phone talking to TeQ. She thought back to the ad, but couldn't remember the gist of it. In moments like this her short term memory wasn't the greatest so she just continued to lay there until Blackwod got off the phone.

"Brie gonna be a busy day today, go take some aspirin and get yourself together."

She sits up, takes a minute looks over at the boss gives him a nod and heads out of his office. Walking to her office she notices Paranoia sitting on the chair in the hallway the HQ phone was pressed up against his ear. She noticed him quick press a button and then shoots her a stare like he did something wrong. Before she could say anything he shot up out of his chair and ran up the stairs.

"Uhm, yeah..." She thought to herself

"Oh well, now where in the hell did I leave that aspirin."

As her Godfather’s prettiest Gladiator and right hand, Nisha hardly ever knocked on his office door and today, after she opened it, she was greeted with Batiatus shouting into the phone. Working out some deal with some corrupt agent or senator. There was obviously Godfather business happening. Ever since Kelly_Kapowski died there were moments Godfather Batiatus was particularly tense. This was one of them. Nisha dropped the files on his desk and slipped back out, she didn’t care interrupting whatever was going on. 

Nisha had other things to take care of, much more important things, like tracking down that pony of hers. CharlesVane had gotten the bright idea of turning ButtStallion into an under cover cop horse. His idea was that ButtStallion would carrying around a city cop all day and listen in on any information. Good thing horses speak english, Vane wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. However, Nisha had let Vane take the pony, it got them both out of her hair. 

She stopped in a few places favorited by the locals to see if anyone knew where Vane and the pony were. Many people didn’t even know who CharlesVane was. Some of them thought he had already talked himself into a grave. A few turned her towards the hospital when they claimed he had been thrown down three flights of stairs for attempting to hustle some folks uptown in a poker game. As much as the pony annoyed her with it’s neighing, snorting and constant need for attention, Vane was worse. There was no way she’d be visiting him any hospital. She had no time for that silly Goomba.

She wanted to see ButtStallion alive. A little voice in the back of her mind worried her that Vane figured out that ButtStallion couldn’t tell him the information he wanted and would turn the horse into glue. Nisha rolled her eyes at herself and caught a taxi. Eventually Nisha found herself in Central Park, a favorite spot of the pony’s. She rounded a bend in the sidewalk near the lake, she spotted the horse and along with her was Vane. Nisha was surprised to see the pair outfitted in police uniforms. She wondered how many times Vane had been kicked in the face before he was finally able to get a saddle on the pony. As she came closer to them, she realized they were not just standing by a phone booth, but huddled around the telephone receiver. 

Nisha sighed at the sight of them. Propped up on ButtStallion’s saddle was a radio, WMOB 69.69FM could be heard through the speakers. It was that commercial again. TeQ’s psychopathic psychiatric hotline. Nisha wondered how many times Vane had called in and if he was attempting to use his fake british accent again. Vane slid some pennies from his pocket and popped them into the phone, he dialed the hotline number and ButtStallion neighed in excitement. Squirrel sized brains, the both of them.

CharlesVane got on top of ButtStallion against her will, after branding her behind with the words, "Charles Vane's." As CharlesVane rode out into the desert, ButtStallion's fat ass fell to the sand, courtesy of the horsey being pathetically out of shape and overweight. CharlesVane sighed, picking himself up from the sand moved over to check his stupid horse to see that she has passed away. Frowning, tries to pay his respects until ButtStallion's sudden, nasty defecation got the better of him. A frown slowly being lit into a smile, CharlesVane laughed his fucking ass off, uncontrollable tears rolling down his eyes.  

Oh my, patients! Uhhh.. visitors rather.

Well, hi there folks! Apologies for the delay in seeing you but my boss has been running me ragged lately. I'll be having to recruit another doctor so I can see them at this rate!

motions for LordBlackWod to come from the waiting room to his office and points to the comfy chair for LordBlackwod to be seated

Holy cow! You're not wrong sir, but the vast amount of capital it would take to move my program out West would be astronomical and as long as clowns are killing clowns, nobody gets hurt, right? Well, we might find a few childrens birthday parties have to go without a clown for their duration, but crying children are the least of my worries!

Hmmm.. a mobile walk-in clinic, I think I might actually be able to work with that idea. Give me a little time and I'll have it setup down IRC avenue!  I'll drop by Weebl's Pikea soon!

Seeing the waiting room filling up, TeQ gets out of his seat to shake LordBlackwod's hand

I'll be in touch, Sir!

walking back into the waiting room, TeQ answers the ringing phone

Vandigat? Hi there, I'm Dr. TeQ. It seems you are having problems using our automated service... yeah, that'll happen. I don't even remember who recorded the menu, I just know I woke up the next morning chained to my bed wearing women's underwear!

.ailment altering-life this of cureed be should you So !dyslexia have dont dogs and DNA own your and dog's the mix help should This .water same the under own your then, seconds 10 for underwater head dog's your hold to you for is dyslexia your for recommendation My

Please note that a serial killing psychopath is now waiting in the bushes outside. Thank you for staying on the line long enough so we could trace your call!

TeQ puts down the phone and looks down his list for the next patient but before he does, the phone rings again...

Oh hi there Paranoia! 

You've no need to stay on the line long enough for us to trace your call buddy...

...we already know where you live.

Watch out for the axe-wielding clown!

TeQ puts down there phone and checks his list again...

Uhhh.. Woboom. All your talk of CPU's, dust, dirt and propellers has me in a twizzle. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about but I recommend pressing number 7 on our automated menu so you can be transferred to Niberoo and be with other people of your ilk!