Hans

by baddieworld

Speaking of mental health… how can you ascertain the exact point at which figments of your imagination stop being quirky and become, well, a bit worrying?

Is it:

a) when you share your figment with your partner, in the form of an imaginary servant called Hans that you hired while you were both living in England?

b) when you both start blaming said imaginary servant (butler/maid /chauffeur) for all sorts of unfinished jobs and household tasks, and congratulate each other that at least you are not paying wages to the lazy sod?

or

c) when you start worrying that if burglars break in while you are away, they will take Hans prisoner and might torture him in order to reveal your secrets?

 

I was planning to go on, but must dash here, I think I can hear Hans calling from the balcony…

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