{edited to fix formatting mistakes}

SCENE: A psychiatrist's ofice.

WOMAN: Oh, Doctor! We were such a happy, unsuspecting young couple then.

DOCTOR: Unsuspecting. Hm... (writes something down, almost idly)

WOMAN: Yes. Unsuspecting of the trouble that was about to strike us.

DOCTOR: Yes, madam, you've yet to tell me what this trouble was - or is.

WOMAN: Well, it started with Mr. Bell and his wife. Mr. Bell works with my husband, you see, and the Bells came over to dinner one evening. Somehow the conversation turned to "What I Would Do If I Were President." Men! Honestly! That's the sort of composition one would write grade school.

DOCTOR: Hm. Well, I think this shows that your husband is merely -

WOMAN: I'm not finished yet, Doctor.

DOCTOR: I beg your pardon.

WOMAN: Well... Jack - that's my husband - took this conversation rather seriously. I don't remember exactly what was said; it was too long ago. But I do know that after that, Jack started acting, well, funny. When he got home from work, he would lock himself up in his study and sometimes wouldn't even come out for dinner. After a few days of such behavior, I naturally demanded an explanation.

DOCTOR: Oh, of course it's only natural -

WOMAN: Doctor, please. Where was I? Oh, an explanation. So Jack took me by the arm and told me he would show me what he had been up to. What he showed me was ... well, it left me feeling quite shaken. He had filled six sheets of paper with all the things he thought were wrong with the world.

DOCTOR: (eagerly) Ah!

WOMAN: I was confused and rather disturbed, but I managed to stay calm and ask him to please come to the dinner table. He asked me insistently what I thought about his list. "Well," I said to him, "It's all very well to write about what's wrong with the world, but it seems to me the point is to solve the problems, not just list them." Wasn't I right, Doctor?

DOCTOR: I -

WOMAN: So Jack snapped his fingers and said, "Of course!" Then he shooed me out of the room and (sighs) I didn't have any company at the dinner table that night - or the next night - or the next. After a whole week of his ignoring me and all my attempts to get his attention, I finally threatened to do something dramatic. Like leaving him. Oh, I know you'll think me foolish, Doctor, but - Oh, I don't know. It didn't work, anyhow. Jack just brought me more papers, listing all the disagreeable things in the world and his ideas for solving them. As I read, the solutions became more and more drastic, and even morbid and ... brutal. But Jack just looked on and said those fatal words...

DOCTOR: What words?

WOMAN: He said... "Do you see how much better things would be if I was running them?" (Her voice cracks, and she takes a handkerchief out of her purse, but is distracted from using it when the DOCTOR begins to speak)

DOCTOR: Well, madam. I think it sounds -

WOMAN: Oh, but that's not all. It was only the beginning of the end. After that, I lost him completely.

DOCTOR: I'm afraid I don't see -

WOMAN: Doctor, I'll cut a long story short. (She sits up and leans toward the DOCTOR) My husband is intent on becoming the world's next Nero. Yes, that's right! He's (she leans forward more) a supervillain.

DOCTOR: Oh! ... Is he, now? (excited and puzzled, he stands up and begins pacing casually)

WOMAN: Well, very nearly. He's gathering support, henchman and strategy before he... reveals himself to the world. (Dabs her eyes with the handkerchief) Oh, Doctor! I know I'm not as badly off as some women. After all, I might have a husband who drinks or something. But you simply can't imagine how hard it is to be married to a person who thinks he's going to take over the world.

DOCTOR: (sitting down) If you'll allow me -

WOMAN: (rises and begins to pace, her back to the DOCTOR) He's up at all hours of the night. He brings home the strangest people. And now he's even having his henchman build him his own underground lair! Doctor, I just don't know what to do anymore. It's really driving me insane! Please, Doctor, is there - (she turns around and stops short. A MAN in a cape has entered the room, and is standing over the DOCTOR, now lying unconscious on the floor) Jack!

JACK: Hello, my dear.

WOMAN: (pointing to the doctor) That's my analyst! What have you done to him?

JACK: Correction: That was your analyst.

WOMAN: Oh, Jack! You haven't - ?

JACK: No, no, my dear. I've only knocked him unconscious. But by the time he comes to, he'll by at the Lair. We can always use an extra henchman.

WOMAN: Sometimes I don't understand you. What are you doing here, anyway?

JACK: I had some of my spies follow you here.

WOMAN: Why, of all the -

JACK: And when they alerted me that you were giving away some of my secrets (he attempts to look threatening) I decided to come over and handle this myself.

WOMAN: (looks at her watch) But how...?

JACK: We work fast. Come along, dear.

WOMAN: (sighs) Why are you wearing that silly cape? It makes you look like Superman or something.

JACK: (spits) Augh! (begins to lift the DOCTOR) Why did you come here to tell this fellow all about my secret plans? I didn't think you would turn traitor.

WOMAN: I wasn't! But Jack... you...you need help.

JACK: Nonsense! (drops the DOCTOR) Wait! Do you mean that you were trying to find me some more henchman? More support! Can't wait to move into that beautiful, new Underground Lair, eh? Why, darling, you should have told me!

WOMAN: (groaning) I give up! Let's go home.

JACK: Home! Home, to our beautiful Underground Lair!

WOMAN: But kindly leave the psychiatrist. Poor man.

JACK: (Taking his wife's arm) Alright. I supposed when he wakes up he'll think I was just a horrible dream. (Laughs evilly) CURTAIN