A Fantastic Fear of Everything Page #4

we can go anywhere in the universe,

in space and time,

by the power of our mind.

To your childhood, to your dreams.

Can you see the little hedgehog?

Frightened little hedgehog

lives in an old hedgerow

by the church.

Can you see the spider?

Clever spider.

Waiting in the shadows.

And Mrs. Ladybird? And Mr. Rabbit?

- How about old farmer...?

- (BLEEPING)

(FAST BLEEPING)

(SCREAMING)

Did you have a happy childhood?

- What is your earliest memory?

- The orphanage on fire.

- You're being facetious.

- No, I'm not, really.

The orphanage I was in caught fire.

November the 5th, 1979.

Somebody let off a Roman candle

in the dormitory.

Luckily no one was hurt.

You're an orphan?

I'm sorry, I didn't...

My mother abandoned me

when I was 5 years old.

She just packed

a little suitcase for me one day

and disappeared.

How did it happen, Jack?

- It's all right to feel vulnerable.

- These pyjamas aren't helping.

Try, Jack.

Try to go back.

The only memory I have of my mother

is of a book she gave me.

Fairy tales I suppose you call them.

With these awful talking rodents.

Look, truth is it doesn't bother me.

I don't miss my mother

because I don't remember her.

I just...

I'm sick of these irrational fears.

Like the bloody launderette.

It's stopping me from living my life.

Well, you can do something about it.

You're not a child anymore.

I once treated a girl

who had a phobia of bananas.

When this girl came to me,

she was so pleased with herself.

She'd been able

to overcome her phobia

to the extent that she could sit

in the same room as a closed banana.

It had to stay closed, unzipped, or

else she'd go completely psychotic.

But the point is, open or closed,

she had not made the connection

between her phobia and her fear.

- Of bananas?

- No. It was something else.

A past trauma. Something more

threatening than a mere banana.

Do you understand?

It's like a movie screen.

She projected her fear

onto the banana

because looking directly

at her trauma was too terrifying.

It was a projection.

- Onto a piece of fruit?

- Exactly.

Her banana's no different

to your launderette.

I also have a recurring nightmare

about an eyeball.

- What sort of eyeball?

- The giant, floating kind.

Sort of eye of death, watching me.

All fears and neurosis can be traced

back to our early childhood.

To the first terrifying recognition

that we are alone in the world.

When a child is abandoned,

it has no concept of time.

No understanding

that things can get better.

That there is hope. For a child,

Jack, mother equals life.

Take away the mother

and the child is literally

swallowed by death.

But I didn't die, did I?

No. You lived.

To experience your own death.

That's some scary sh*t, Dr. Friedkin.

It's the primal trauma

we are all trying to forget.

To bury in our subconscious.

But it inevitably finds expression

either in dreams or fears

- or infantile fantasies.

- (KNOCKING)

(WOMAN) Dad? How much longer

are you gonna be in there?

Just finishing up, sweet pea.

I'm sorry, Jack. We have to end now.

I don't know how to thank you,

Dr. Friedkin.

Perhaps as a teenager, you were

subliminally drawn to that OOO,

because somewhere deep

in your subconscious,

you recognised

that you, too, are out of order.

Broken. You don't work anymore.

The primary defence mechanisms

you relied on

to get you through childhood

no longer support you as an adult.

I'm sorry.

You're f***ed up, Jack.

You need therapy.

I haven't got time.

I've got a meeting.

Return to the scene of the crime

and retrieve those unwashed articles

locked in the machine.

Release your raw, true, inner self.

Begin a new life, free from fear.

Fear of death.

The irony is we must all journey

through Hades

before we can reach our heaven.

Dr. Friedkin,

I think it's time I faced my banana.

(UPBEAT ROCK MUSIC)

Ooh! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

(PANTING)

(HORN BLASTS)

Oh. Oh.

It's step-up time, yo, motherf***er.

(ICE CUBE'S

THE WRONG NIGGA TO F*** WITH)

# Goddamn, it's a brand new payback

# From the straight gangsta mack

in straight gangsta black

# How many motherfuckers gotta pay

# Went to the shelf

and dusted off the AK

# Caps gotta get peeled

# 'Cause the nigga you love to hate

still can kill at will

# It ain't no pop 'cause that sucks

# And you can new Jack

swing on my nuts

# F*** R 'n' B and the running man

# I'm the one that stand

with the gun in hand

# Make sure before you buck

with duck quick

# Punk, 'cause I'm the wrong n*gger

to f*** with, f*** with

# Hell, yes, it's on,

you better tell them

# Ice Cube and I'm rolling

with the motherfuckin' LM

# It's the number one crew

in the area

# Make a move for your gat

and I'll bury you

# Ashes to ashes, dirt to dirt

# Punks roll when I put in work

# 'Cause Lench mob niggas

are the craziest

# And y'all motherfuckers

can't fade my sh*t

# South Central, that's where

the Lench mob dwell

# Hittin' fools up with the big ass!

# One time can't hold me back

# Sweatshirt, khakis and... #

It's all right, mate. It's all right.

What the f***?

Everything all right, sir?

Yes. Yes, I'm fine, thank you.

- Looks like you're in a hurry.

- Yes, well, I have an appointment.

With death.

- Excuse me?

- I mean, with the launderette.

I'm going to wash some socks.

- There's no crime in that, is there?

- Not that I'm aware of.

Good. Well, I'll be on my way, then.

Good night.

Good night.

(JACK)

Keep it together, keep it together.

It's only a banana. It's not him

you're afraid of, it's only...

(RUMBLE OF TRAIN)

Okay. Stick to the plan.

If I move fast, I can get in

and out in half an hour.

That leaves 20 minutes

to change and get a taxi north.

No room for error.

"Everything automatic.

One, open the door.

"Two, get the clothes in.

"Three, shut the door

and have two pound coins ready.

"Four, place the money in the slot.

"Five, push your slot in."

Great.

How do I manage it?

I've managed to create a bad

impression. I'm still in the street.

Okay. Okay, you can do this.

You can do this.

(GASPS)

(UPBEAT VIETNAMESE MUSIC)

(JACK) Looks like my lucky day.

Only four people

and no visible infants.

There, look.

The atmosphere's easing a little.

I'm blending in.

Okay, so far so good.

I'm already up to number three.

"Shut the door,

have two pound coins ready.

"Four, put the money in. Five..."

Sh*t. These signs are older

than the machines.

What do I do now?

Heavy soil.

(BREATHES OUT)

Jesus, it's over.

All I have to do is stand in front of

it until the things come out clean.

(JINGLE BELLS RING TONE)

(Speaks Vietnamese)

(JACK) I need to check out

those drying machines.

Interesting. It appears

the technique is to open the door

and grab the dry things

as they y past.

So more heat gets concentrated

into bulkier items such as woollens.

While at the same time

anything fragile

are spared unnecessary exposure.

I'll have to remember

that for my shirt.

Wait.

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