by Nathan Wada

Created on: August 13, 2009   Last Updated: August 18, 2009

LOCATION: Creation Inc. & Subsidiaries, Pre-Mortal Division. May 5, 1856.

CHARACTERS

Nate: Chief engineer for Creation's Austrian affiliate. Nate has put together a team to assemble one Sigismund Schlomo Freud.

ID: Personified as an impish rascal. Id is hyperactive, aggressive, and egocentric. Think Iago from Othello.

SUPEREGO: Represented as the ultimate fussbudget. Self-righteous and obsessive-compulsive, Superego despises Id.

EGO: Depicted as insecure and malleable. Ego is forever caught between Id and Superego's sparring, but lacks their forceful personalities and is therefore fairly impotent as a referee. Think Waylon Smithers from "The Simpsons."

BACKGROUND : T-Minus 16 hours to the birth of Sigmund Freud. Nate has noticed a serious problem in the Freud model.

(Nate summons three of his engineers into the War Room for a final go-over before they boot Freud up and send him down to be born).

NATE: Alright you three jokers, who's going to explain to me why this guy has so much nervous energy? I mean, the erratic neural activity projections are 351 percent above the prescribed range. No way this kid survives childhood if we send him down like this.

ID: Search us boss. We don't program 'em, we just put 'em together.

EGO: I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Id, sir. Shall I give R&D a call and see if this was intentional?

SUPEREGO: Or maybe just ask Id what he was doing alone with the model at 3 a.m. this morning. I wouldn't put it past this miscreant to intentionally sabotage 8 months of work just for some self-aggrandizing stunt.

(ID glares at Superego but purposefully withholds comment).

NATE: You know what, I don't have time to babysit you two spatting lovers. Look, just work on the rest of the basic logistics while I take this up with R&D.

(Nate leaves the room).

ID: Pompous prick. Can't stand that guy.

EGO: Can't figure out what happened. I mean, those numbers can't be right, can they?

SUPEREGO: I'm telling you, Ego. If the shoe fits. And this half-evolved baboon has his banana-smudged fingerprints all over this.

(Id is abnormally quiet and focused. Suddenly an alarm on his digital watch beeps. To this he extends an exultant fist pump).

ID: Ha! Yes! It's in. Fully encoded! And there's nothing that no-talent hack Nate can do about this now.

This, distinguished colleagues, is Sigmund Freud, my magnum opus!

EGO: You didn't!

SUPEREGO: What have you done, you retrograde ape?!

NATE: Look, it's not even that big of a deal. I just

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