Somebody under itShakey went to a psychiatrist. ``Doc,'' he said, '`I've got trouble. Every time I get into bed, I think there's somebody under it I get under the bed, I think there's somebody on top of it Top, under, top, under. ``you gotta help me, I'm going crazy!'' ``Just put yourself in my hands for two years,'' said the shrink. '`Come to me three times a week, and I'll cure your fears'' ``How much do you charge?'' ``A hundred dollars per visit.'' ``I'll sleep on it,'' said Shakey. Six months later the doctor met Shakey on the street. ``Why didn't you ever come to see me again?'' asked the psychiatrist ``For a hundred buck's a visit? A bartender cured me for ten dollars.'' ``Is that so! How?'' ``He told me to cut the legs off the bed!''
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