Ask a Pathological Liar: Prom Date


Dear Pathological Liar:
I am a 17-year-old girl. My mom is really old-fashioned, and thinks I am too young to go to the prom without a chaperone. What can I say to convince her I’m trustworthy and responsible?

Signed,

Tormented Teen

Dear TT:
This is a tough problem. But I remember when I went to my prom. I was testing a new prototype of the Lear Jet. Man, what an impressive entrance. That year my date was Madonna, but it wasn’t like we were an item or anything. I was far too young for her, and aside from the fact that I wasn’t really into her type, being enrolled in high school and MIT at the same time was really keeping me busy with school work. But my mom did Madonna’s eyebrows, and Madonna owed my mom for something like five months of eyebrows, and so she worked it off by being my prom date. But she was really nice, and sent me a note afterwards with a check for $500,000 inside. But naturally I returned the money because with all I had already earned off of my artificial heart valve invention, I felt Madonna needed the money more. I was really sad a few years later when I had to sue Madonna for copyright infringement over her theft of my song “Papa Don’t Preach.”

Hope this helps.

Dear Pathological Liar:
In the winter, I find it difficult to keep the temperature consistent throughout my house. I can be freezing in my study, then walk into the den and it will be sweltering in there. What’s going on and how can I fix it?

Signed,

Blowin’ Hot and Cold

Dear Blowin’:
The answer to your problem is something called zoned radiant capacitive heat, which I invented, although I am having to sue the people at Hallawell Industries to have my patents enforced. My lawyer is Samuel Alito, a Supreme Court justice who is a good friend of my dad’s. He took the case to help me out, and also because he’s got a personal grudge against the CEO of Hallawell over the way he abandoned my dad, who had to save that entire village in North Vietnam all by himself. Yeah, Alito and my dad are tight. Just don’t tell him I made out with his wife once! Ol’ Sammy has a vicious temper! I saw him and my dad beat a guy to death with frozen tires one time.

Let me know if this works.

Dear Pathological Liar:
I received some bad news from the doctor. While I will probably eventually be OK, I will have to spend some time in the hospital, and some of the treatments could be quite painful and disfiguring. What do I tell my three children, aged 6, 3 and 2, to help them understand without freaking them out?

Signed,

Sick and Soon to Be Tired

Dear Sick:
Oh, yeah, I know all about those painful and disfiguring treatments. I was trekking the Brazilian rainforest by myself once, and had just discovered an unknown tributary of the Amazon when this troop of monkeys came out of nowhere and beat the living shit out of me! Man, I was almost scared there for a second! But I quickly fashioned a shotgun and ammunition out of materials I foraged on the jungle floor and I was able to repel the monkey attack. But this one little monkey was hurt worse than I was and I could tell he was sorry for what he’d done. So I nursed him back to health with these herbal poultices I made up using my knowledge of the pharmacological properties of every single species of jungle fruit. There were some nasty side effects and it was tough on the little guy’s system, but he pulled through. I eventually taught that little monkey sign language and he is now the mayor of a small town on the edge of the rainforest. We still exchange Christmas cards, and I am the godfather to three of his seven children. He is contemplating a run for pope. One of the remedies I concocted for him now forms the basis for every single type of commercial chemotherapy drug. I have tried and tried to get the pharmaceutical industry to use some of the other concoctions I used to heal my monkey friend, but they are too dumb to understand the biological processes involved. Just yesterday, I was forced to sue them in Federal Court because I am sick of seeing people suffer unnecessarily. The judge said he was probably going to just issue a summary judgment in my favor and award me the $8 billion, but he wanted to think about it. I should know tomorrow, or the day after, at the latest.

All my best.