Terrible

This is the only Alice adaptation I’ve ever seen that doesn’t cut the caucus race

The mad hatter wears taps throughout and it’s so jarring and surprising it’s perfect

The executioner shadows almost everyone who dances with the Queen

Lewis Carroll is a character in the ballet and becomes the white rabbit who leads Alice into wonderland which is bad and wrong because Carroll is the dodo but does work very well

They started dropping rose petals from the ceiling onto the audience when Alice looked through the door to the garden and it was utterly magic

The Cheshire Cat is made of about 10 different puppets that dance around the stage

Which reminds me Alice is styled after Alice Liddell rather than the John Tenniel illustrations

I don’t think the king of hearts actually dances he just wanders around looking confused

the Caterpillar is pretty neat too

A little bit for Monica, she's my wife

A little bit for Erica, for her strife

My books all go to Rita, cause she reads

My greenhouse goes to Tina, she plants trees

The furniture is Sandra's, on my lawn

Jewelry for Mary, she can pawn

Ashes go to Jessica, that's my plan

Hermione: *pausing the lap dance* what

Harry: we used to study for the O.W.L.S., did homework together, played quidditch…

Hermione: *resuming the dance* oh, this

Hermione: if you didn’t leave me that copy of Exotic Wizardry, I would never know what sex is

Harry: you were wearing heels!

Hermione: it’s just a footwear!

Hermione: so was Draco, and so what?

Harry: *gets squished with her boobs* *gasp*

Harry: it was so simple back then

Draco: *from the couch* is he babbling about the simpler times again?

Hermione: what do you think

Draco: for crying out loud, potter! You will not un-fuck Ginny, George, Fred, Luna, Hermione, Cho, Parvati, Neville ——geez, what a list!—— Pansy, Cedric, Astoria, half the Slytherin house and almost everyone in Hufflepuff!

Harry: life was simpler when—

Hermione: *bends over, showing him her butt*

Harry: I could be watching it every day

Draco: *sigh* you are watching it every day

Harry: life was simpler back then

Draco: where does it come from?

Harry: we could meet and just talk

Draco: if I remember those meetings, we were either fucking or talking about fucking

Hermione: there was no meeting of you two without sex

Draco: you mean of any two of us three

Hermione: there were times you and I met and only talked

Draco: yeah, about sex

Harry: they never told us we’re such sexual beings

Harry: craving more and more of intimacy, acquiring good pounding and mind blowing orgasms, only to fill—

Draco: —your hungry asshole

Hermione: or my hungry asshole

Draco: or your hungry mouth

Hermione: what can i do if i just like that

Draco: hey! I like that too! Nothing wrong in sucking dick for fun!

Harry: my best friend is a sex-maniac, married to another sex-maniac

Draco: he’s talking about Ron?

Hermione: I guess

Hermione: I am not married, so contextually—

Harry: all they do lately is fucking

Harry: gigantic white dick entering big, hungry chocolate ass

Harry: all day long

Hermione: I think I will suck your dick and you suck his

Draco: a deal has been made

Harry: all day long, whole careers of the magic world sacrificed to fuck— ohhhh

Draco: MMMM *sucking Potter’s dick*

Hermione: I love this view

Hermione: look at me, Harry

Hermione: do you like my ass? Would you like to destroy it, given a chance?

Harry: *grabs Malfoy’s head and starts fucking it*

Hermione: that’s right

Hermione: fuck my tight, teenage ass

Hermione: I want you to empty your balls in me, can you do it?

Harry: I’m! Gonna! Trrrryyyyyhhhh…

Harry: *cums*

Draco: *licks Potter clean* *stands up*

Draco: you’re a dirty girl, Hermione

Hermione: did you like it?

Draco: I loved every second of it

Harry: that was something

Harry: now I want to see you sucking Draco’s dick

Harry: and Draco will be sucking my finger

Hermione: jesus fuck I am so wet right now

Draco: I’m glad that you’re back from whatever the fuck was that

Harry: I went spiralling down

Hermione: yeah, to the „times where we were all fucking thirteen”

Hermione: in the middle of the lap dance

Hermione: way to go, Harry

Harry: sorry

Hermione: was I so bad?

Harry: let me rephrase: I— uh

Draco: you were missing learning stuff from books at school

Harry: I remember seeing your mom for the first time

Draco: ah yes, the first boner of the great Harry Potter

Harry: so I have to blame the Malfoys for those good, innocent times to end

Harry: you are evil

Draco: *sigh*

Hermione: I’ll start sucking, okay?

Draco: *sigh* by all means

Ginny: *tied, ballgagged and plugged, kneeling in the corner* mMm

Harry: oh right, I almost forgot of her

Draco: what did you promise her

Harry: that if she won’t make a sound I’ll let her eat my ass

Draco: she made a sound though

Harry: I didn’t hear anything

Ginny: MMMM

Harry: I think I need to un-gag her

Harry: *un-gagging Ginny* do you need something, honey?

Ginny: sir, I was promised that disobedience will end with spanking

Harry: how about I’ll cut you a deal

Ginny: uh-huh?

Harry: you will eat my ass, you’ll be spanked hard in yours, but you’ll have to talk about us all in Hogwarts but omitting all the sex we had

Ginny: I am not playing in your mind-games

Ginny: I am here to be humiliated, spanked, fucked and degraded

Ginny: is that understood?

Harry: geez okay

Harry: what is wrong with everyone

Ginny: what is wrong with you?!

Ginny: romanticising the odd times when we were kids who almost died hundred times and didn’t have a friendly dick to suck because we were kids!

Ginny: get a grip, Potter!

Harry: yeah I am not drinking that much of Memory Lane anymore

Draco: did you say „Memory Lane”?

Hermione: *stops sucking* I believe so

Draco: Harry, that’s Pensieve anti-corruption liquid, not a drink

Harry: a full shot of it was standing on the table when I get back from work

Draco: it’s the dosage

Draco: you pour it to the Pensieve and it helps with maintaining it somehow

Harry: so what do I do now

Harry: I feel weird

Hermione: I feel weird too, Draco got so worried about you his dick went limp and just slipped out of my mouth like it was nothing

Ginny: I could eat your ass and pussy if you want

Hermione: slaves don’t talk

Hermione: but you will eat me so hard you won’t be able to talk for another day

Ginny: thank you, milady

Ginny: would you spank my ass a bit too?

Hermione: do a good work and we’ll see

Ginny: yes, milady

Draco: what the fuck, Potter?

Draco: why would you do such a stupid thing?

Harry: I thought you made me a drink

Harry: poured me a shot of something new

Draco: you are such an idiot

Draco: I am apparating us to Mme Pomfrey’s

Harry: are we not too old for this? We were young once and—

Draco: oh shut the fuck up and button up your trousers, okay?

Harry: is that what you’re wearing?

Draco: you have something to add, Potter?

Harry: your makeup is ruined

Draco: I just got mouthfucked

Draco: that’s my natural state and Poppy knows that

Draco: let’s go

*apparates them*

Mme Pomfrey: ahh, Draco

Mme Pomfrey: still getting facefucked, I see

Mme Pomfrey: is everything not a-okay with you, gentlemen?

Mme Pomfrey: between you and me, Draco, I think you’re more like a lady, not a gentleman

Draco: thank you, Poppy

Draco: this idiot drank Memory Lane

Mme Pomfrey: did he? That’s a shame

Mme Pomfrey: he will have weird regrets, then the night of shaking legs and convulsing diarrhoea

Mme Pomfrey: basing on his state I would guess we’re past the regret part, right?

Draco: nah we’re just beginning

Mme Pomfrey: i mean the side effects

Draco: oh, this

Draco: yes

Harry: just leave me here and come on the morning

Mme Pomfrey: I will give him a Warm Worm so he’s not hypothermic and we’ll dunk him in the lake

Draco: won’t he sink?

Mme Pomfrey: the shallow waters will do

Draco: why that?

Mme Pomfrey: his shit will go everywhere so

Mme Pomfrey: it’s better this way

Mme Pomfrey: trust me

Harry: *farts*

Draco: that’s not good

Mme Pomfrey: WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA

Mme Pomfrey: OPEN THE WINDOW!

Harry: *flies away*

Mme Pomfrey: out of sight, out of mind

Draco: thank gods he’s still in his trousers

Mme Pomfrey: just put him in the water and wait until the early morning

Mme Pomfrey: it should pass

Draco: that’s weird

Mme Pomfrey: what is weird, my dear boy, is that he’s the ministry’s most famous and driven auror and he’s still the same dummy who comes home and drinks Pensieve maintenance liquid

Draco: for his defence I will say that we’re here right from a sex-party

Mme Pomfrey: of course you are

Mme Pomfrey: I can smell Hermione too

Hermione: *entering* it’s because I came here to help as well

Mme Pomfrey: nice outfit, you guys robbed the fishing boat?

Hermione: *neck to toe in various fishnet attire* have you seen Ginny?

Hermione: heel!

Ginny: *walks in on all fours* MmMmm

Hermione: *un-gags her*

Ginny: hello Madame Pomfrey

Mme Pomfrey: good dog!

Draco: I’ll go and check on Harry

Mme Pomfrey: I think he shits himself on the roof now

Draco: jesus christ

Snape: *entering* WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE SHIT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

Snape: *sees Draco, Hermione and Ginny, all dressed in sexual-provocative way* NO

Snape: NOT THEM AGAIN

Snape: *leaves*

Snape: *from outside the door* FOR FUCK SAKES!!!!

Mme Pomfrey: *listens to steps on the corridor*

Mme Pomfrey: McGonagall is coming! Hide!

Hermione: *stashes Ginny under the bed, herself hides behind the curtain*

Draco: *crawls under the desk*

Professor McGonagall: *enters*

Professor McGonagall: I saw your window opened, so I figured it’s time for some Hagrid’s Finest

Professor McGonagall: I have few minutes to spare

Mme Pomfrey: oh

Mme Pomfrey: okay

Mme Pomfrey: *walks towards the desk, opens the drawer, gives Draco the look and closes it*

Professor McGonagall: on the desk, love

Mme Pomfrey: one day I will lose my own head here

Professor McGonagall: If I find yourself without your head, I will assume you gave it to Hagrid.

Professor McGonagall: wink, wink

Mme Pomfrey: Minerva! You naughty, naughty girl

Professor McGonagall: I learned from the best

Professor McGonagall: and I mean by observing Hermione Granger

Professor McGonagall: that one could suck Snape out of the forty-gallon cauldron through a quarter inch tube, I shit you not

Mme Pomfrey: *casually lights up two cigarettes, gives one to McGonagall* so how is everything?

Professor McGonagall: Oh it’s f—

Professor McGonagall: Why is Potter convulsingly shitting himself on the Herbology Roof?

Mme Pomfrey: what can I say

Mme Pomfrey: long story short, he drank some Memory Lane

Professor McGonagall: whew lad, you’re in for a treat

Professor McGonagall: he will now find new ways to use his butt

Mme Pomfrey: or as we call it in the hospital: the usual way

Mme Pomfrey: or was it the natural way?

Professor McGonagall: why is Hermione behind the curtain?

Mme Pomfrey: they play sexy hide and seek and Potter decided to shit himself middle game

Professor McGonagall: I see

Professor McGonagall: that has nothing to do with… Let me guess, Draco, under the table?

Mme Pomfrey: I hired his as my new helper here. Collecting dust from under the desk, now, I believe

Professor McGonagall: entry position, as far as I understand the lower levels of career in labouring

Professor McGonagall: that boy sure spends a lot of time on his knees even without that

Professor McGonagall: my, my… you didn’t tell me you let animals in here, too

Mme Pomfrey: oh, yes… Ginny Weasley prefers this method over the classic method of, you know, transfiguration

Professor McGonagall: ah, youth

Professor McGonagall: we give them tools to figure it all out on their own I guess

Mme Pomfrey: I’m sure some of them came here with bags of their own… tools

Professor McGonagall: ah yes, the famous Weasley Chest

Mme Pomfrey: I meant the Plentiful Malfoy Boxes

Professor McGonagall: that too

Professor McGonagall: why don’t you put Potter into a lake?

Mme Pomfrey: we got distracted

Mme Pomfrey: and by me, I mean all of us

Mme Pomfrey: I bet they stay hidden because they really are terrified of your “look”.

Professor McGonagall: is that so? Granger?

Hermione: …yes, professor?

Draco: …yes, professor McGonagall

Ginny: mmgblg

Mme Pomfrey: she’s gagged

Professor McGonagall: I see

Professor McGonagall: oh shit, Snape is climbing the roof

Mme Pomfrey: we got to do something

Mme Pomfrey: Potter will shit all over him and we will hear about it forever

Hermione: we could, uhm

Professor McGonagall: SEVERUS!

Snape: WHAT

Professor McGonagall: I didn’t think that through

Hermione: *flashes him*

Professor McGonagall: I am not doing that, even if it could help

Hermione: *jiggles her boobs*

Professor Flitwick: *on the ground* that is the best student that ever graduated this school

Professor Flitwick: take a good look, boys and girls

Professor Flitwick: it will help you during those long, lonely nights

Professor McGonagall: Flitwick!

Professor Flitwick: yes, Minerva?

Professor McGonagall: prevent Snape from… ah, crap

Harry: *shits all over himself and roof*

Snape: I AM NOT HAVING YOU SHITTING ALL OVER ME AND EVERYTHING

Snape: *puts a charm on Potter, creating a green spherical barrier around him*

Snape: *flies Potter to the nearest pond*

Mme Pomfrey: the ponds! How could I forget that the ponds are here!

Professor McGonagall: don’t be hard on yourself, I too have forgotten about their existence

Professor McGonagall: Harry Potter’s problems seem to have this effect on people

Mme Pomfrey: mmmhm?

Professor McGonagall: I just saw him shitting on himself on the roof and immediately forgot about our koi ponds!

Draco: god forbid a man shat himself around here, women lose their heads

Professor McGonagall: yes, Draco, we all know what did you do with your head, as I can smell your breath from here

Ginny: MMMM!

Hermione: I believe she said “burn”.

Ginny: MHM

Hermione: do you want me to un-gag you?

Ginny: MM MHMHM HMM

Professor McGonagall: “no. fucking. way.”, was it?

Mme Pomfrey: language!

Professor McGonagall: oh please, they practically invented these words just like Draco’s mother invented uncomfortable shoes

Hermione: oh—

Professor McGonagall: everything all right, Hermione?

Draco: you mentioned my mom and she’s deeply in love with her

Professor McGonagall: I thought you and Weasley—

Mme Pomfrey: Weasley-s

Hermione: that’s just sex, professor… uhm, madame

Professor McGonagall: my, my…

Professor McGonagall: *crouching* anyway how did you manage to get involved in all of this?

Ginny: M HM HM HMM

Professor McGonagall: “I wanted to”

Professor McGonagall: still into Harry, I see

Ginny: *clacking her heels on each other*

Hermione: that’s her signal to un-gag her

Professor McGonagall: *takes Ginny’s gag off*

Ginny: I am doing this because I love all of them, professor

Professor McGonagall: you were always the most romantic person in this family

Ginny: also they owe me this

Draco: she cuts my lawn for sexual favours

Professor McGonagall: really? Lawn? At Grimauld Place?

Draco: I mean…

Mme Pomfrey: he means his bush

Professor McGonagall: I know exactly what he means

Snape: Hermione Granger!

Hermione: *in the window* yes, professor Snape?

Professor McGonagall: “yes, professor Snape?”

Snape: would you please just take Malfoy and Weasley away from the school premises?

Hermione: but Harry…

Snape: I… Will… take care… of the shitpants Potter here! I just need you all gone!

Professor McGonagall: I think what professor Snape means, is that you seem to be distracting everyone from the school with your… nakedness

Hermione: I could wear a school robe—

Draco: I cou—

Professor McGonagall: please, you two

Professor McGonagall: everyone in the school saw at least one of your most famous photographs

Mme Pomfrey: I liked the one with Hermione in leopard miniskirt

Hermione: oh—

Draco: uhm—

Professor McGonagall: yes, Draco, the famous headband with a bow as well

Draco: fucking Weasleys…!

Professor McGonagall: as I recall, you paid them to print it in their “Naughtingham” magazine.

Draco: yes, I… paid

Professor McGonagall: I don’t care how did you pay, I mean I just know that they don’t print anything for free

Ginny: he sucked their di—

Professor McGonagall: and I’m sure he did it very well

Hermione: guys we got to leave the school

Draco: I am not leaving my husband

Professor McGonagall: in my opinion it will be better for you to just leave

Mme Pomfrey: I will take care of Potter, honey

Draco: well… okay *stands up from under the desk*

Draco: come on, doggy, let’s go to my place

Ginny: I hope you mean Malfoy Manor

Hermione: I need to see Narcissa

Draco: we all need to see her

Hermione: oh?

Draco: she might know what to do to Harry

Hermione: oh

Hermione: I thought—

Draco: don’t be ridiculous

Ginny: it was pleasure to meet you, professor, madame—

Draco: I too was delighted

Professor McGonagall: send my best to your parents… all of them, the Malfoys, the Weasleys and the Grangers. One big happy family I hope

Draco: the happiest

Ginny: thank you—

Mme Pomfrey: oh just grab the portkey and be gone now, will you?

Draco, Hermione and Ginny: *grab the portkey and disappear*

Professor McGonagall: I think I need a drink

Mme Pomfrey: I have some Bearhugger whisky

Professor McGonagall: anything will be good to wash down the Snape’s face expression

Mme Pomfrey: *looks through the window* I see what you mean

Outside, in the koi pond

Snape: *waters down Harry with a hose*

Harry: *farts and shits himself more*

Snape: *moans*

Harry: *moans and farts*

Snape: ehhh

Snape: I need a drink too

Snape: I probably have a flask here somewhere *taps his pockets*

Snape: *finds two flasks* what the fuck is this

Snape: *tries to sniff them* everything smells like shit anyway

Snape: ah fuck it *drinks both at once*

*turns into Hermione*

Snape: ah shit

Snape: ah fucking shit not this now

Snape: ahhh shit fucking fucking shit

Snape: *undresses from his clothes now too big for him*

Harry: *gets a boner*

Harry: *squirms on the ground*

Draco: *makes Potter beg for mercy*

Harry: *moans*

McGonagall: *on the other side of the patio* you know that your slut boy is making my wonder boy look weak?

Snape: I assure you, it’s just nasty courting

Hagrid: I saw them fucking by my pumpkins like twelve times already

Dumbledore: he might look weak, but it is Potter on giving end

McGonagall: so Potter fucks Malfoy? Really?

Snape: if it was Harry doing all that to a girl we would react two years ago when it started

Flitwick: right when she started wearing high heels and acting like her father

McGonagall: I see you’re referring to Mr Malfoy as to her

Snape: look at her

McGonagall: *looking at Draco in mini skirt, stockings and heels too high for anyone to walk safely* oh

Snape: we just let Potter solve this problem on his own

Dumbledore: and I believe we shouldn’t intervene

Harry: *gets slapped in a face*

McGonagall: ooh!

Harry: *gets kissed very roughly*

Me, to the walkie-talkie: I need Brian here right in this fucking moment or I swear a go— oh hey

Brian: *unzips*

Me, thankful: thanks god damn it that was quick

Me: *mouth full of dick*

Me: *mouth full of cum*

Me: it didn’t help I need another

Me, to the walkie-talkie: I need James here asap

Me: *mouth full of dick*

Me: *mouth full of cum*

Me: yeah okay now I feel better

My boss, looking at me swallowing two guys’ dicks and cum in less than five minutes: I see you went straight for the, uh… is that ecological thing or

Me: first of all, it’s not straight

Me: second of all, they pay me better than you and your stupid forklift

Me, realising what I need is a collective of horny dicks ready for a blowjob one after another during a day and not a stupid industry work that pays peanuts and leaves me tired and angry: I gotta talk to my pack of fags

My boss: I, uh, should report this language to the HR

Me: that’s fine, I’ll suck their dick too when I’m on my way outta here

My boss: that’s not what I–

Me: anyway thanks for, uh, forklift and stuff and whatever

My pack: are you coming?

Me: yeah, and soon are you

Everybody cheers, Karl Marx waves little flag with a dick on it, letting out a single tear of joy

HR girl: I, uh, uhm, let’s better wait for my dad okay

Me: why

HR girl: Uhm he, uh, is going to appreciate this language more

Me: you mean tongue

HR girl: these words have similar meaning and uh

Me: oh come on just say I’m a big mouth

HR girl: and he’s a– he’s a–

Me: a cigar?

HR girl: sort of. Anyway should I prepare your file?

Me: I need a fag now

HR girl: he’s going to be here any minute now

Me: NOW

some dude, opening the door: Oh hey I’m HR girl’s dad I heard you swear a lot

Me: I swear a god I need a fag now

HR girl’s dad: oh, a cock smoker, why didn’t you say anything

Me: I did

HR girl: he’s leaving the company

HR girl’s dad, unzipping: why?

Me: *mouth full of cock*

HR girl: apparently we don’t pay enough

HR girl’s dad: that sucks

Me: *mouth full of cum*

Me: aaaahhhhh that’s better

HR girl: I have them papers ready

Me: thank you

Me: I guess this is somehow relevant to smoking but fuck if I know how

Me, asking someone in the streets: Scuse me mister what can one do with a cigarette juice on their face

The postman: are you that guy from apartment 64B?

Me: what

Aunt Edna: who are they

Aunt Barb: they’re his support group

Uncle Dampsy: are they from your band

Me: my band?

Uncle Dampsy: you have long hair and everything

Me: I have long hair since 2002, uncles

Aunt Edna: when will you gonna have kids

Me: when will you gonna have grave

Aunt Edna: you’re not a man enough if you don’t have kids

Me: I need a supporting Steven now

Me: *sucking mean cock*

Everyone: *looks away*

Aunt Edna: eeewwww

Aunt Sophia: wait are you gay

Me: *swallowing a cumshot* no they are my support group

Aunt Sophia: what kind of support group works that way

Me: I was addicted to cigarettes and now I am not smoking at all

Aunt Sophia: but you suck dick now

Uncle Dampsy: that’s even worse

Me: is it

Aunts, collectively: yes

Me: who cares what you think

Later

My mom: that was bold

Me: oh yeah Steven is a thick one

Mom: no I mean talking to them like that

Me: ah well

Mom: it took some balls

Me: yeah and the taste is so much better

Mom: and I heard that addicts don’t care about the taste

Me: fuck yeah we do

Dad: yeah I uh, wanted to say that uh

Me: it’s okay dad

Dad: no I mean I am about to stop smoking too

Mom: are you about to stop smoking or stop smoking

Dad: his method seems fine

Mom: will his clothes smell less

Me: if he swallows there is absolutely no chance you even knew he smoked

Aunt Barb: but did you have to come to this party dressed like a whore

Me: Aunt Barb these are my best shoes and they cost so much I better walk in them

Aunt Barb: pink don’t suit you

Me: it’s fuchsia and yeah it does

Aunt Barb: you look like a whore

Me: they support my heels and ankles when I smoke

Aunt Barb: oh my god

Me: better safe than sorry you smelly old bat

Aunt Barb: *gasp*

Me: also I don’t like kneeling outside the soft carpet

Mom: you gotta take care of your joints

Me: that’s my point

Dad: can I, uh

Me: go ahead, Dad

Me, to walkie-talkie: I need Brandon asap

Me: enjoy

Dad: oh ok thanks cool

Mom: I was hoping you would convince him to stop smoking

Me: that’s an easy decision to make when you have something else to suck on

Mom: let’s hope he stops this nonsense

Mom: he was doing so well but then grandpa got sick and

Me: hopefully he stops now

Me: how was it, dad?

Dad: I, uh, didn’t quite grasp a taste I was so nervous

Me, to Brandon: get him more

Me: leave me one for later and you can smoke the whole pack now, Dad

Mom: Harold

Dad: Stephanie?

Mom: find a chair. You know how your back hurts after a while

Dad: good idea

Mom: let’s hope he’s hooked

Me: he needs his own pack of fags now

Mom: oh I think Bertie and Darryl and Mike and Jose are going to be here even more often

Me: they’re fun guys

Mom: and none of them smokes

Aunt Edna: where is Harold

Mom: leave us alone you stinky old bat

Me: he went to your house to check on that silver thing you promised him in your will

Aunt Edna: he did what

Mom: she’s gonna get a heart attack

Me: shall we call an ambulance

Mom: nah

Mom: where did you get these awesome shoes?

Me: the internet

Mom: you look cool

My sister, arriving late: so, you’re a cock smoker now, huh

December 1997

DOI:10.1136/bmj.315.7123.1685 Authors: Ikechukwu Obialo Azuonye (Oxleas NHS Foundation Trust)

Introduction

A previously healthy woman began to hear hallucinatory voices telling her to have a brain scan for a tumour. The prediction was true; she was operated on and had an uneventful recovery.

No previous illnesses

Born in continental Europe in the mid-1940s the patient settled in Britain in the late 1960s. After a series of jobs, she got married, started a family, and settled down to a full time commitment as a housewife and mother. She rarely went to her general practitioner as she enjoyed good health and had never had any hospital treatment. Her children had also been in good health.

In the winter of 1984, as she was at home reading, she heard a distinct voice inside her head. The voice told her, “Please don't be afraid. I know it must be shocking for you to hear me speaking to you like this, but this is the easiest way I could think of. My friend and I used to work at the Children's Hospital, Great Ormond Street, and we would like to help you.”

AB had heard of the Children's Hospital, but did not know where it was and had never visited it. Her children were well, so she had no reason to worry about them. This made it all the more frightening for her, and the voice intervened again: “To help you see that we are sincere, we would like you to check out the following”—and the voice gave her three separate pieces of information, which she did not possess at the time. She checked them out, and they were true, but this did not help because she had already come to the conclusion that she had “gone mad.” In a state of panic, AB went to see her doctor, who referred her urgently to me.

I saw her at the psychiatric outpatients clinic, and diagnosed a functional hallucinatory psychosis. I offered general supportive counselling as well as medication with thioridazine. To her great relief, the voices inside her head disappeared after a couple of weeks of treatment, and she went off on holiday. While she was abroad, and still taking the thioridazine, the voices returned. They told her that they wanted her to return to England immediately as there was something wrong with her for which she should have immediate treatment. By this time, she was also having other beliefs of a delusional nature.

She returned to London and I saw her again at my outpatients clinic. By this time, the voices had given her an address to go to. Reluctantly, and just to reassure her that it was all in her mind, her husband took her by car to the address in question; it was the computerised tomography department of a large London hospital. As she arrived there, the voices told her to go in and ask to have a brain scan for two reasons—she had a tumour in her brain and her brain stem was inflamed. Because the voices had told her things in the past that had turned out to be true, AB believed them when they said that she had a tumour and was in a state of great distress when I saw her the next day.

Brain scan requested

In order to reassure her, I requested a brain scan, explaining in my letter that hallucinatory voices had told her that she had a brain tumour, that I had not, personally, found any physical signs suggestive of an intracranial space occupying lesion, and that the purpose of the scan was essentially to reassure the patient. The request was initially declined, on the grounds that there was no clinical justification for such an expensive investigation. It was also implied that I had gone a little overboard, believing what my patient's hallucinatory voices were telling her.

Eventually, after some negotiation, the scan was done in April. The initial findings led to a repeat scan, with enhancement, in May, revealing a left posterior frontal parafalcine mass, which extended through the falx to the right side. It had all the appearances of a meningioma.

The consultant neurosurgeon to whom I referred AB noted the absence of headache or any other focal neurological deficits related to this mass, and discussed, with AB and her husband, the pros and cons of immediate operation as against waiting for symptoms to appear. In the end, it was agreed to proceed with an immediate operation. AB's voices told her that they were fully in agreement with that decision.

These were the notes of the operation, carried out in May 1984: “A large left frontal bone flap extending across the midline was turned following a bifrontal skin flap incision. Meningioma about 2.5” by 1.5” in size arose from the falx and extended through to the right side. A small area of tumour appeared on the medial surface of the brain. The tumour was dissected out and removed completely along with its origins in the falx.”

AB later told me that when she recovered consciousness after the operation the voices told her, “We are pleased to have helped you. Goodbye.” There were no postoperative complications. The dosage of dexamethasone was halved every four days, and then it was stopped. She was on prophylactic anticonvulsants for six months. Antipsychotic medication was discontinued immediately after the operation, and there was no return of the hallucinatory voices or the delusions which she had expressed.

Discussion

AB telephoned me last Christmas to wish me and family a merry festive season, and to tell me that she had been completely well in the 12 years since the operation. It was this telephone call that brought this case to mind again.

It is well known that intracranial lesions can be associated with psychiatric symptomatology. But this is the first and only instance I have come across in which hallucinatory voices sought to reassure the patient of their genuine interest in her welfare, offered her a specific diagnosis (there were no clinical signs that would have alerted anyone to the tumour), directed her to the type of hospital best equipped to deal with her problem, expressed pleasure that she had at last received the treatment they desired for her, bid her farewell, and thereafter disappeared.

I presented her case at a conference later that year. AB attended and was closely questioned by several people about the various aspects of her experience. The audience was split down the middle. People who would be called X-philes today rejoiced that what had happened to her was a clear instance of telepathic communication from two well meaning people who had, psychically, found that AB had a tumour and sought to help her.

The X-phobes had a very different formulation. According to them, AB had been given the diagnosis of a brain tumour in her original country and wanted to be treated free under the NHS. Hence, they surmised, she had made up the convoluted tale about voices telling her this and that. But AB had lived in Britain for 15 years and was entitled to NHS treatment. Besides, she had been so relieved when the voices first disappeared on thioridazine that she had gone on holiday to celebrate the recovery of her sanity.