*Receptionist, standing at large extremely-elevated podium* “You can go in now, Sir.”
*Man, looking up from his copy of ‘Fascism Monthly’* “I’m sorry…me?”
*Receptionist* “Yes, Sir. SOMAD will see you now.”
*Man* “Oh, alr…SOMAD?”
*Receptionist* “Yes, Sir.”
*Man* “I…don’t understand, my therapist’s name isn-“
*Receptionist* “Yes, Sir, I understand you previously had a different therapist. But due to remarkable advances in technology, your previous human therapist is now OB-SO-LETE…*ahem* *ahem* Excuse me…is now obsolete, Sir.”
*Man* “So what’s umm…”
*Receptionist* “If you’ll just go in, Sir.”
*Man* “Hey, is that Burgess Meredith over there?”
*Receptionist* “No. If you’ll just go in, Sir.”
*Man* “Ummm…well if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you obsolete too?”
*Receptionist* “Shh.”
*FADE TO BLACK*