Ashley sits in the corner, facing away from everyone. "I hate you!" she yells, kicking her feet. "Let me go!"
Dust Bunny backs away, looking into a phone book...
Dr. Shrunk: Heh, don't cry now... Lovely soup there. Can I have a taste?
Dust Bunny: (Looking up with wide eyes) NO! Don't drink that!
Shrunk: (Closing eyes while bringing the ladle closer to his mouth) Why, what's wrong with it?
Dust Bunny knocks the ladle away.
Shrunk: Mind your manners. It can't be any worse than my wife's chicken soup.
Dust Bunny: That isn't soup, and you're not helping!
Shrunk: Helping with what?
Dust Bunny: Ashley has a nightmare of emotional problems, and it's driving everyone crazy! That thing in the pot... I told her to stop playing with potions!
Shrunk: Oh, well, why didn't you say so? I can help.
Dust Bunny: I did say so! I called... (Checks the number he called, seeing Dr. Srunk)... $That means...$
Shrunk: Okay, little Ashley, are you ready for your first treatment of laughs?