Dear Dr. Chiribada,
I appreciate how quickly your response time was. My situation has deteriorated since I last wrote you. There are actual feathers poking their way out of my arms and legs and the seed cravings increase in intensity day after day. I’ve been wearing long-sleeved shirts and slacks to work everyday, and as a dolphin trainer this is extremely unusual and uncomfortable. Dr. Chiribada, please tell me that I won’t have to kill myself before I transform into that disgusting creature I’ve grown to hate.
My ManUp Points, as they apparently call it in the medical business, would put former NHL enforcer Dave Schultz to shame. I’m surprised that the amount of steaks I’ve eaten haven’t turned me into a cow and the porno has been a staple of my life since my wife stopped sleeping with me for fear of Avian Flu. There have still been no improvements. Unfortunately, the handful of D20’s that have been in my pocket where ever I go have gotten me beaten up more than that time I wore that Dokken shirt senior year of high school. I’m no doctor, but maybe that’s been counteracting the treatment.
I’m scared. If there is anything that I can help you with to remedy my situation I would be more than happy to do it. Just please, keep me from being a bird. I’ve been fighting off the urge to type “CRAAAAAAAAAAW” the entire time I’ve been writing this.
With all my admiration and terror,
Dear Dr. Chirabada,
I am writing to you in a time of dire need. My situation is clearly worsening by the day and I fear that soon this… ailment… will overtake my entire body. My local doctor’s insistence on taking a teaspoonful of cat food ever 3 hours only worsened the situation as well as increased my distaste for liver and codfish. I am in dire need of your expertise and you come highly recommended by the other “experts” I saw. I use the VERY sarcastic quotes because my diagnosis always came with no cure.
It all started about 2 months ago when I got this sudden, weird craving for sesame seeds. Its weird because I’ve never eaten sesame seeds before. At McDonald’s I always asked for two bottom buns because those bastard seeds are the number two suspect of “things that get stuck in your teeth when you eat an everything bagel” behind poppies. Not long after I started to get really itchy and my voice cracked like I was going through reverse puberty. I thought to myself “REVERSE PUBERTY?! IS THERE ANYTHING IN THE WORLD WORSE THAN GOING BACK TO MY DAYS OF DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS AND ASTHMA ATTACKS AROUND GIRLS?!?!?!” Well Dr. Chirabada, there is something worse, and its the disease I’ve contracted.
I’m turning into a bird.
I don’t know how it happened. Its not like I spend a lot of time around birds. In fact, if you asked me “What’s your least favorite animal?” I’d tell you with no hesitation, “Birds, fucking birds, man.” You can see the predicament that I’m in. The last thing I want to become is one of those disease infested, high-pitched squealing, shameless random defecating Squawk-boxes.
So, Dr. Chirabada, I turn to you, the expert on Avian Anthropomorphization. And yes, I looked up two bigger words that meant “a person turning into a bird.” Its difficult to explain how terrified I am of this malady.
Help me, Dr. Chirabada. You’re my only hope.
With great hope,