Under the Bed

Shakey 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!"