MAN: Hello. Welcome to The Clinic, and your first group therapy session. For those of you who don't know me yet, I'm Mitch. Are we all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this fine morning?

(No one answers.)

MITCH: I know some of you would much rather be off doing other things, but just try to remember: we're here to help. I see some new faces here, so let's start off by introducing ourselves.

(MITCH looks toward the person on his left.)

BOBA FETT: Uh...I'm Boba Fett. (he waves his hand slightly at the others) Hey.

(To FETT's left is...)

DARTH VADER: I'm Darth Vader. Dark Lord of the Sith, right-hand man to the Emperor, and Grand Champion Bungee-Jumper of Coruscant thirteen years running.

(MITCH frowns as he checks the papers on his clipboard.)

MITCH: I'm sorry, but...my paperwork lists you as "Anakin Skywalker".

VADER: I was Anakin Skywalker. Now, I'm somebody else.

MITCH: I see. (he nods, scribbles at his clipboard) Identity issues. Very interesting...

FETT: (nudging VADER in the shoulder.) Oooooooh! Busted...

VADER: (to FETT) Don't ever touch me.

MITCH: Let's continue, shall we?

(In the seat next to VADER, the bounty hunter BOUSHH rattles something off. The protocol droid standing behind his chair interprets):

DROID: The esteemed bounty hunter, Boushh, demands to be released from this facility, or else--

--(BOUSHH pulls something from a pocket.)--

DROID:--or else he will activate this thermal detonator!

FETT: Um, that's not a thermal detonator, that's--

MITCH: (nodding) A tennis ball. Yes, you're right. Boushh here has an irrational fixation on thermal detonators, perhaps symptomatic of some deeper disorder; we've been trying to wean him off of them. (He leans forward, pats BOUSHH on the knee.) It's very frightening, Boushh. (He looks to the seat next to BOUSHH.) And you are?

KOSH: Kosh.

MITCH: Kosh? (He flips through his paperwork.) Well, you're not on my list at all. What part of the galaxy are you from?

KOSH: Babylon 5.

MITCH: I'm not familiar with the Babylon system. Is that near Sullust?

KOSH: The end points to the beginning. An unexpected door has been opened.

(Everyone stares at him.)

FETT: Oh, man. Is he some kind of beat poet, or something? 'Cause if I have to sit here and listen to a bunch of pretentious crap, I am so out of here...

MITCH: Wait. I think I understand. Those rascals down the hall in the Quantum Mechanics department have been playing around with dimensional portals again, haven't they?

KOSH: Yes. The avalanche has begun; it is too late for the pebbles to vote.

MITCH: Well, it's good to have you here, Kosh. Good to see that you're willing to improve yourself, no matter where you're from. (He faces everyone) Let me start off by asking you all one simple question: Why do *you* think you wear these helmets? These masks, that hide your true selves...?

FETT: (shrugging) It was a hand-me-down from my dad. Plus, the chicks kind of dig a mystery man.

VADER: Mine's a life-support system.

(BOUSHH speaks quickly and fervently.)

DROID: The esteemed Boushh says he wears the mask to--and I quote--"pick up the hot honeys for a little bang bang." I'm afraid I have no idea *what* he means, sir. He also adds that if you don't let him leave within five minutes, he'll use that detonator...

MITCH: Of course, he will. And you, Kosh?

KOSH: Because I would be recognized without it.

MITCH: By who?

KOSH: Everyone.

MITCH (nodding) I see. Well, you know what I think? I think you all wear these helmets to hide yourselves from the rest of the world. I think you're ashamed of who and what you are, and are afraid to face up to your deeds; you're seeking refuge within these disguises in an effort to evade any responsbility for your actions. What do you all think of that?

FETT: I think you'd better be careful driving home tonight, buddy. You might just have an "accident".

MITCH: Anger is a perfectly natural response when faced with a harsh truth.

KOSH: The truth is a three-edged sword.

(silence)

FETT: He is really starting to creep me out.

MITCH: You seem to have a lot of hostility, Boba. Would you like to explore that?

FETT: No.

MITCH: I really think you should...

FETT: You know what I want to explore? I want to explore this whole "Aurra Sing" business. Can somebody explain this to me? Because I'm just not getting it.

MITCH: What do you mean?

VADER: (to MITCH) Don't get him started...

FETT: I mean, how has this pasty-faced bimbo gotten so popular? I've seen the holovids of that Boonta Eve podrace, just like everyone else. And she appears for about two seconds--says nothing, does nothing--and suddenly there's this cult that's sprung up around her. Some people are even daring to compare her to me! ME!

MITCH: So, you're jealous of her fame.

FETT: Jealous? No. Pissed off? Yeah! C'mon, I actually did something! I caught Han Solo, for crying out loud! I led Vader to Cloud City, which allowed him to confront his son!

MITCH: Funny you should mention that, because I wanted to explore that with you, Vader. (he turns to face VADER.)

FETT: Maybe I should've just--

MITCH: Boba--

FETT: --lounged around in my ship and--

MITCH: Boba!

(FETT looks at him.)

MITCH: (to FETT) It's quiet time, now. Okay?

(FETT crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, sulking. MITCH turns back to VADER.)

MITCH: Let's explore this whole thing with you attacking your son, shall we? Do you think you might have been transposing your own insecurities and failures onto him, and using *him* as a target for your rage--rage that you truly, deep down, felt towards *yourself*?

VADER: That...is the biggest load of crap I've ever--

MITCH: Okay, let's try this: did your father treat you in a similar fashion?

VADER: I didn't have a father.

MITCH: (scribbling a note on his clipboard) Now we're getting somewhere. So, he left your mother when you were young?

VADER: No, I mean I didn't have a father at all. Ever.

MITCH: (raising a skeptical eyebrow) What? You're saying it was some kind of...immaculate conception?

FETT: That ain't what I heard.

VADER: (to FETT) What's *that* supposed to mean?

FETT: Just that your momma's phone number is written on more bathroom walls than--

(VADER lunges at FETT. FETT's chair topples backward, spilling both of them onto the floor, where they begin to tussle.)

MITCH: Gentlemen, please!

(They ignore him.)

KOSH: ENOUGH!!!!!!!

(KOSH unleashes a bolt of energy against the two fighters, flinging them apart. FETT and VADER stagger back up, slowly take their seats.)

KOSH: Stupidity. Idiocy.

MITCH: (laying a hand on KOSH's encounter suit) Thank you, Kosh.

(Kosh looks at MITCH's hand for several moments. MITCH doesn't take the hint.)

KOSH: (to MITCH) Impudence!

(KOSH unleashes a blast of energy against the counsellor, sending him reeling back in his seat.)

FETT: Right on!

(FETT raises his hand in a "high-five" gesture. KOSH simply stares at him. After a few moments, FETT sheepishly lowers his hand.)

MITCH: (coughing a bit, straightening his glasses) Kosh, I'm afraid that's going to have to go in your permanent record... (he begins to jot a note down on his paperwork.)

(BOUSHH speaks again.)

DROID: The esteemed Boushh says that your time is up, and that you should make peace with whatever gods you worship.

VADER: Oh, for the love of--

(BOUSHH tosses his tennis ball out into the middle of the floor. It bounces once, twice...and explodes.)

(They all awaken to find themselves in a misty netherworld. VADER, FETT, BOUSHH, MITCH, and even the DROID are all there, looking around--but nothing can be seen except for the swirling mists all around them. Where KOSH should be standing, however, is man with a salt-and-pepper beard, wearing a flannel shirt. When everyone stares at him, he shrugs.)

KOSH/LUCAS: I told you everyone would recognize me...

(He wanders away into the mists.)

DROID: Is this...deactivation? Death?

VADER: (nods) It is. You'd think Ben and Yoda could've come to see me, but noooooooooo!

MITCH: So, if we're dead...(he pulls out a ghostly clipboard)...How does that make you all feel? Let's explore this...

(Everyone groans...)

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