Bob: Hey, you have a disorder.
Dandy: Oh, cool, which one?
Bob: The bad one.
Dandy: Oh, ok, which one is that?
Bob: I think Bipolar Disorder.
Dandy: No, I don’t think so.
Bob: Then how do you explain your prayer life?
Dandy: Oh, I’m devout.
Bob: Then, you have Generalized Anxiety.
Dandy: Cool, I don’t though. I’m calm as a drug.
Bob: Oh, ok. Maybe, then I think you have schizophrenia.
Dandy: Oh, that’s serious. I like you though. And I have no fears.
Bob: Oh, you’re right. You’d probably try to kill me by now if you were.
Dandy: Maybe I have no disorder. Unimaginable, right?
Bob: That’s impossible. Look at you, all you’ve done. Praying, spiritual, extreme.
Dandy: Oh, I actually have real faith.
Bob: Then, you are…
Dandy: I sincerely wish I did, because then you could be right and I wouldn’t have to deal with this problem.
Bob: Which one?
Dandy: Your evil. It hurts, and the dissonance is too great.