Few people love cats as much as you do. You have 35 of them living in the house with you. Youıre not one of those starving cat ladies who lives in an old trailer, you have money. Your 35 cats eat from your best Waterford Crystal, seated with you at the dinner table.

Before you retired, you were an animal activist (sometimes going to extreme measures to support your cause), but now that you have reached your mid-sixties, youıve slowed down and spend most of your time at home and in the garden. Everything about your outfit relates to cats, from your Tigger underwear to your leopard print hat. You also carry cat pictures and tell cat "tales" at the party. Even your speech includes little cat-like inflections: an occasional hiss or purr, all the words that start with "M" have a high-pitched MEEEE sound (as in meow). Practice this so you can impress other guests at the party.

Speaking of impressions: get those stories ready! What about the time on Christmas Eve when you drove to the pound and adopted every single cat in the place? You didn't want a single feline to spend Christmas alone. Then there was the time your favorite tabby got stuck in a tree almost 50 feet above the ground. You called the fire department, but they wouldn't send out a rescue team. They said they were too busy, and they didn't rescue cats anymore. So you risked life and limb and climbed up in the tree to be with little Fluffy. That got the fire department out because they had to rescue both of you! And then there was the night you held the all-night "Alley Cat Extravaganza" in the alley behind your house (sort of a summer block party for any cat that wanted to come). You made special party hats and baked an anchovy-frosted cake. The party games were kind of a bust because most of the cats didn't want to play "Pin the dagger through the heart of the little doggie."

Speaking of doggies, they are, of course, your #1 enemy! You take pride in the fact that you've eliminated over 100 dogs from your neighborhood. In a weird, ironic twist, you often make doggie stew for your little friends.

This has led to some problems. When you house-sat and poisoned "Poochie," the toy poodle that belonged to Susan Wallburg, a Congresswoman (who is at the party), she was furious. You claimed it was an accident, but the Congresswoman still doesn't believe you. She did an autopsy on Poochie and found that her precious baby had rat poison sprinkled on top of its nightly hot-fudge sundae. Wallburg may confront you, so be ready to explain how the rat poison got there.

Another person you know at the party is Jedediah Strong, the Big Game Hunter. The fact that he heartlessly kills innocent animals makes you sick. In an effort to stop him, you flew to Africa and joined one of his safaris. One night you put morsels of raw meat all around his tent while he slept. The idea was to attract wild animals with these hors d'oeuvres so that when Mr. Strong woke up and walked out of his tent, he'd be the main course. But the plan backfired, because Mr. Strong always sleeps with a gun. He picked off two lions and a hyena while the other animals, hearing the gunfire, ran away. He will probably confront you, but you feel strongly about animal rights, so don't back down. You can tell him how cruel he is. You'd like to see him roasting on a spit, just like his prey.

The other person you know is Dr. Lloydian Fripp, the psychiatrist. You were a client for years. (Not you personally, but your cats.) There was Fernando who would always hiss and scratch at the others. There was Lulu who lacked self-esteem, but was a favorite with all the male cats. And, of course, there was Sprinkles with a very annoying habit. You trusted Dr. Fripp to take care of all these problems, and you invested thousands of dollars in therapy sessions. The result has been total failure: not even a mild change in these behaviors. So you sued for malpractice and won. Sure, he was taking advantage of a crazy old lady, but you caught him by surprise. It almost ruined his practice, so he'd like to get even. Be careful!

Optional prop: A small photo book with pictures of your cats.

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Modeling yourself after your idol, Sigmund Freud (including, if possible, a foreign accent), you truly love psychology. Everyone at the party is a potential patient, so it's a perfect time for you to do some psychoanalysis on each person you meet.

Your props should include items such as a blank pad of paper (for notes and handwriting analysis), 3 x 5 cards with words printed on them for word association, and your infamous ink blot pictures.

Depending on the type of crowd at the party, your inkblot pictures can be either mildly or overtly sexual in content. Be ready with a wholesome non-sexual interpretation of each picture (perhaps by turning it another direction) if the observer says that they see something sexual. Or you can say that it is a sexual picture and their alternative interpretation indicates that they might have some kind of latent denial, phobia or perversion. Either way, you can use this to your advantage and open the door for diagnosing some deep-seeded psychological problems.

As far as you're concerned, everyone needs help, and you're the one to do it. It's a perfect opportunity for you to drum up new patients. (You might want to brush up on a few psychological anomalies so you can properly diagnosis each of the "patients" at the party: schizophrenia, paranoia, various phobias, multiple personalities, sexual perversions, Oedipal complexes, etc.). Everyone at the party deserves your expert diagnosis/opinion. All it takes is a few words of conversation and you begin to "suspect" something. (Be sure not to hit on a sensitive area for anyone. Be sure your diagnosis is way off the mark!)

You enjoy sharing stories of the analysis you've done on famous people: Joan Collins, Madonna, Rush Limbaugh, and Bill Clinton to name a few. Even though it is unethical, feel free to share their "very personal" stories.

As much as you'd like to think that you are the perfect (European born and raised/top graduate in your class at the Munich Institute/happily married with 3 beautiful children) psychiatrist, you're not! Actually, none of those things are true. During your marriage of 7 years, you've had three torrid affairs. Your wife, Congresswoman Susan Wallburg (she kept her maiden name), has strayed as well. In fact, she has been seeing someone who is at the party, and one of your objectives is to find out who. If, and when, you do find out, it would be appropriate for you to pitch a fit. Throw some threats in the direction of your wife and the "other man." It will certainly liven things up.

Rebecca Starchild (one of your "other women" who is also at the party) dumped you a month ago, and you've been trying to get her back. You haven't been able to sleep since she left, and you've decided if you can't have her, then no one can. You'll kill her and yourself if she won't take you back. At the party, you need to beg, and promise anything to win her affections. You're too jealous to see her with another man. You don't want to say the word "kill" because that is too incriminating. You have to say things like "I cannot exist without you," and "I cannot bear to see you with another man." Make a sincere attempt at the party to try to win her back.

Someone you had hoped NOT to see is at the party is Isabella LeChat, the animal activist/cat lady. She paid thousands of dollars for you to counsel her cats. The behavior of the cats never changed (It was like your advice went in one ear and out the other!), so she sued you. She got a big settlement, and you almost lost your license. You insist that you tried your best, and it wasn't your fault that her cats were "thick." You felt her lawsuit was totally out of line. This is the time to tell her so. Ask about Ferdinand, Lulu and Sprinkles (three of your favorites). Has their behavior improved over the past year?

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