> A satire, with apologies for my own lack of skill and serious effort coupled with respect and admiration for the excellent work of the band Suicidal Tendencies and their wonderful song *Institutionalized*.

Nyeah, he gobbled in the back of his throat as he worked, muttering "Carry the one. Compute the integral. Don't forget its radical. Eh, eh.. Yes, yes, now divide by the--"

"Tokarov!" A fist hammered at his bedroom door.

He ignored it.

"Tokarov!" The hammering fist would not be ignored.

"Not now Mom, I'm busy."

"What are you doing in there? Open this door at once!"

"I'm not doing anything, Mom. I'm just working on a math problem."

"Is there someone in there?"

"No, Mom. There's no one in here. Just me."

"I heard you talking to someone. Who are you talking to?"

"No one Mom, I'm just doing some math problems."

"Well, your father and I have been talking."

"That's great Mom, I'm glad. Now if you could just leave me alone, and let me figure out this math problem--"

"Your father and I have noticed you've had a lot of problems latley. "

"They're just math problems Mom."

"We're worried about you."

"Mom, there's nothing to worry about, it's just math. Ok? So could you just please leave me alone and--"

"Your father and I are afraid you're going to hurt someone."

"Mom!"

"We're afraid you're going to hurt yourself!"

"No one's going to get hurt, it's just math. No one ever got hurt doing math problems. I'll be fine."

"Normal kids your age don't do math problems. They play outside. Why don't you go play outside?"

"I don't want to play outside, Mom."

"If you played outside you could make friends."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I don't want friends, Mom."

"Are you afraid of getting teased? Are you getting bullied again?"

"No, Mom, no one's bullying me."

"You know if you're getting bullied you can talk to me about it."

"I'm not getting bullied, Mom."

"You know I'm always here for you. And you'd probably feel alot better if you talked to someone about your problems."

"Not these problems, Mom. Ok?"

"You're doing something shameful!"

"Math problems, Mom. I'm doing math problems. There's nothing shameful about math."

"You're looking at dirty pictures!"

"What! No Mom, I'm not looking at dirty pictures."

"Normal boys your age look at dirty pictures. Don't you like girls?"

"Mom! Of course I like girls. Everyone likes girls."

"You have a girl in your room!"

"What? No, Mom, no. I don't have a girl in my room, okay Mom? I have a math problem. Just a math problem."

"Two girls!"

"Girls aren't math problems, Mom!"

"Are you using protection?"

"What? No! Of course, not."

"Your father was supposed to have that conversation with you."

"Yeah, Mom. We did. We definitely did. We definitely had that conversation. But right now I'm--"

"Is.. is... is it another boy in there with you?"

"Mom!"

"Is that why you're not using protection?"

"No! That's not why! You don't need protection to do math problems."

"Is that why they bully you at school?"

"Mom! They don't bully me at school!"

"Do his parents know?"

"Mom, I can't have this conversation with you right now."

"I'm your mother. You can always talk to me about anything."

"No, Mom, not this. Not now."

"You're doing something indecent!"

"No, Mom, I'm just thirsty. All this talking made my throat sore. Why don't you bring me a glass of water or a Pepsi or soemthing to drink, okay?"

"You're low on fluids!"

"Mom! I'm not low on fluids! I'm just thirsty!"

"I knew I heard someone in there. You did something indecent, and now you're low on fluids."

"No, Mom, no. It's not what you think."

"Tokarov! You open this door this instant."

"I can't Mom, I can't."

"What are you hiding? What can't you talk to your mother about?"

"You really want to know? You really want to know, Mom? Fine. I'll tell you. I'll you; there's this huge hole, okay, Mom? There's this huge hole and--"

"Ooooh, why didn't you listen to your father? Why didn't you use protection?"

"It's way passed the time for protection, okay, Mom. Way too late for protection. There's this huge hole, and from the waist down I'm getting--"

"Someone's touching you! I knew it! I knew I heard someone in there!"

"No Mom,--"

"My darling baby boy is getting touched inappropriately!"

"Mom! I'm not getting touched. I'm getting sucked."

"You're getting sucked!"

"Yes, Mom. I'm getting sucked. I'm getting sucked into a malfunctioning pan dimensional temporal dislocation apparatus."

"You're getting sucked!"

"Into a time machine, Mom. Okay? A time machine. I'm getting sucked into a time machine. I was alone in my room, working on a time machine, and I must have miscalculated a little bit and sliipped into a portal between dimensional realities."

"You're on drugs!"

"What! No, Mom, no! I'm not on drugs. I'm just getting sucked into a time machine, that's all."

"We raised you better than this."

"It was a miscalculation, time machines are very complex, Mom, okay? Everybody miscacluates.."

"How could you? How could you do such a thing?"

"I'm pretty sure I just forgot to carry the one but--"

"Your poor father. What will he think?"

"I don't know. He might think it's a rounding error but--"

"What will the neighbors say? Our son the drug addict."

"Mom! You're not helping, okay? I'm not a drug addict, and I'm not on drugs, and I'm not doing anything indecent. I'm just working on a math problem and you're not helping, okay? This doesn't help. I need to concentrate. If you would just leave me alone I could figure this out, okay? I can figure this out myself."

But she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't leave him alone. So you get what we have right now. I don't like it any more than you do.