Beware of Hypnotists without watches

After that last scary experience at the hypnotist I began to have nightmares about hypnotists. I dreamt of hypnotists everywhere riding hippopotamuses or hippoppotami ... or whatever is the plural of hippopotamus. As long as they looked like hypnotists I got scared out of my life regardless of what they were riding in my nightmares or night horses. Every word with hip in it kept recurring in my dreams and made me fear hypnotising hippopotamuses sitting on my hips even more.

In order to cure my fear of hypnotists I went to see a hypnotist and asked him to cure me. He said, "What are you afraid of?"

I replied, "I'm afraid of being put to sleep by hypnotists like you!"

He said, "But in order to cure you I have to put you to sleep, are you not scared of that?"

I replied, "Of course I am. But my fear of being put to sleep by a hypnotist is far outweighed by my fear of you putting me to sleep to cure my fear of being put to sleep by a hypnotist."

(I had to read this sentence twice before uttering it to the hypnotist).

I asked him, "Can you not put me to sleep whilst I am awake, and cure me then?"

He said, he'll put me half to sleep so that whilst I'm asleep I am not really asleep and he'll be able to cure my fear of hypnotists putting me to sleep because I am not asleep really.

(So I read the above sentence twice as well to understand what he was on about).

He then took out his pocket watch and started swinging it from left to right in front of my eyes saying, "you're getting sleepy ... no you're not ... yes you are ... no you're not ..."

He had such a boring voice that I must have soon dozed off. When he woke me up he suddenly said, "BOOOOH!!!!"

I did not flinch a muscle.

"There you are," he said, "you're cured. You did not jump when I scared you! Now give me my watch back!"

"What?" I asked totally surprised.

"You stole my watch," he accused me, "whilst you were asleep you stole my watch!"

"No I didn't ..." I protested.

"Yes you did," he insisted, "it's in your jacket pocket!"

I looked in my pocket and to my surprise there was his watch. I was confused. How did this happen? I didn't recall stealing his watch. I apologised and returned it.

He said, "you stole my pen too ... it's in your other pocket!"

And true enough there it was. I got really worried and gave him his pen back. Somehow, whilst I was hypnotised I seem to have developed another habit of stealing things from people. But only when I'm asleep.

"You also tried to steal my desk," he said, "only you could not fit it in your pocket! But I bet you have my wardrobe and swivel chair in there."

"I'm ... I'm sorry ..." I mumbled totally confused, "I do not have your desk in my pocket".

(There's a sentence I never thought I would utter. Is there a sentence you never thought you would utter? Get hypnotised and find out).

The hypnotist was relentless. He continued, "You also told me in your sleep ... half-sleep ... that you are a kleptomaniac, and that you're taking something for it ... my desk and couch not doubt ... only they did not fit in your pocket."

By then I was totally concerned as well as being totally confused. I became more afraid of hypnotists than when I was at first when I came in with a fear of hypnotists and wanting to be cured of that very fear of hypnotists. Then I was afraid of hypnotists putting me to sleep, now I am afraid of hypnotists putting me sleep and accusing me of stealing their furniture amongst other things.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified ... hold on, I'm sure I have used this joke before in my writings. But then, you can't beat the old ones can you? They don't write them like that any more. At least I don't!

The man then said, "You've also stolen my underwear which you're wearing right now. Give them back!"

I got up from the couch and ran out of the window. Pity it was three floors up; but I kept running.

When I got home I checked it was my underwear I was wearing ... which thankfully it was. But I also found in my pocket a KFC chicken leg which did not belong to me. It belonged to the chicken, or the KFC shop, or perhaps the hypnotist. I remembered that week I had gone to the burger bar, so if anything I expected to find a half-eaten bun instead. How did the chicken leg get there?

How about you? Have you ever been accused of stealing a hypnotist's underwear? And did you?

There's a cure for it, you know!