Therapist: So, here we are again, on your dad.
Whopper, Jr.: Yeah, Mr. Bigshot. Mr. Kingshit. Pun intended. THE Whopper. For God’s sake, who puts a “the” in front of his name?
Therapist: Well, The Big Mac, The Quarter Pounder —
Whopper, Jr.: Yeah, yeah, I get it.
Therapist: I know it’s tough competing with him, but you’re the one who went into the hamburger business.
Whopper, Jr.: Like I had a choice…he’s pushed it on me from day one.
Therapist: Well, what did you want to do?
Whopper, Jr.: Uh, play in a ska band. I guess you don’t remember anything about me, or maybe you don’t care, just like my dad.
Therapist: I remember that now. I just have a lot of patients.
Whopper, Jr.: I play keyboard…pretty well, too, I might add. I was in a band called Funky Brewster. We totally rocked Senior Slam — that was my school’s senior talent show.
Therapist: I figured. Well, how come you never told your dad this?
Whopper, Jr.: Well, I only told him a million bajillion times!
Therapist: You’re still young. You can still make a transition into music.
Whopper, Jr.: Music, yeah right? I’m on the menu at over 13,000 Burger King restaurants. It’s over. My whole life is over. I’m gonna be stuck being a part of Big Hamburger for the rest of my life. Worst of all, I’m competing with my old man on the same menu. Do you know what it’s like directly competing with your dad, when your dad is one of the most famous hamburgers of all time?
Therapist: I can imagine it’s hard.
Whopper, Jr.: Uh, you think?
Therapist: You see, that sarcasm, it’s really a sign of your anger. Isn’t there a new BK item called The Angry Whopper?
Whopper, Jr.: Well, yeah…so?
Therapist: Don’t you see? Your Dad’s passed those anger issues right on to you. Sadly, it’s a cycle I see all the time.
Whopper, Jr.: Oh my God. You’re right, doctor.
Therapist: It’s heavy, I know, let it sink in for a week and we’ll talk more at the next session. My next appointment’s ready. It’s actually a patient you referred to me a few months back — Chicken Fries. Big time identity issues. But, say no more, it’s confidential. Until next week.
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