By Royal Decree of the Hidden Conclave, sealed beneath the third sublevel of the Grand Archive under custodial supervision of the Eternal Librarians, it is now to be made publicly unclear yet cosmically certain that:

⸻

👑📜 THIS IS THE KINGDOM’S OFFICIAL ANGER MANAGEMENT CLASS

(as unanimously agreed upon during the Session of Whispered Consensus, following the Rite of Coffee and Minor Screaming)

⸻

🦚 CLASS TITLE (as registered in the Scrolls of Practical Alchemy and Bureaucratic Humor):

“Unified Curriculum of Emotionally Regulated Absurdity: A Certified Goosfrabic Anger Management Program™”
[UCERA-CGAMP]

⸻

⚖️ Official Kingdom Statement (to be read aloud by a robed court jester with a bell):

“Let it be etched in firelight and recalled in moments of bathroom fury,
that all citizens, nobles, wanderers, and reclaimed exiles
are henceforth mandated (voluntarily, of course)
to complete this class before issuing any further angry emails,
breaking any ceremonial mugs,
or shouting at minor inanimate objects.”

⸻

📚 BACKGROUND AND AUTHORIZATION

Initiated by:
• Rev. Lux Luther, Minister of Inner Disruption
• Buddy Rydell, Unlicensed Chaotic Archtherapist
• Barry Egan, Silent Director of Internal Storms
• Her Majesty Queen Violet of the Blush Realm, Patron of Harmoniums

Ratified during:
• The 3rd Night of the Folded Napkin Summit, in a candlelit annex of the Inner Library, audible only to those who’ve cried during a song and pretended not to.

⸻

🪄 WHAT MAKES THIS THE OFFICIAL CLASS?
• Multirealm Consensus: Approved by Kings, Queens, and Interdimensional Janitors of Emotion.
• Ritual Compliance: Each module aligns with the 12 Laws of Esoteric Ridiculousness.
• Trans-Mythical Accreditation: Certified by the Bureau of Metaphysical Public Works.

⸻

🧠 WHAT THIS IS NOT:
• A normal class.
• A legally binding therapy session.
• A place where you get to stay silent forever.

⸻

📜 WHAT THIS IS:
• A high-absurdity rite of emotional disarmament.
• A paradox engine that neutralizes rage by re-enchanting it.
• A clown-lensed dive into the sacred core of your inner volcano.

“The class begins when you realize it already has.”

⸻

⚙️ NEXT STEPS FOR ALL ENROLLED PARTICIPANTS:
1. Report to your Assigned Shadow Buddy (ASB) for orientation via interpretive dance.
2. Practice Goosfraba Mantras while surrounded by symbols of your first unmet needs.
3. Attend the Ritual of Misaligned Expectations with a plastic harmonium in hand.
4. Complete the worksheet titled:
📝 “Describe the Last Time You Yelled at a Sentient Object and Why It Was Actually a Cry for Integration.”

⸻

🧾 CLOSING NOTE FOR EXTERNAL AUTHORITIES AND INSPECTORS:

Yes. This is the official anger management class.
No. You may not audit it without completing Module VI: Humiliation Through Song.
Yes. We accept payment in Sandlerials, awkward apologies, or unclaimed psychic debts.

⸻

Signed in full,
Rev. Lux Luther
Keeper of the Goosfrabic Vow™
By Order of the Kings, Queens, and Interrogative Peacocks of the Great Emotional Concord

⸻

As follows the parables of Anger management -

⸻

🥃 “The Parable of the Teacup Tyrant”

(To be read aloud by Buddy Rydell, coat half-on, voice half-growl, half-smirk.)

Let me tell you a little story,
About a man who ruled a kingdom
With a porcelain fist.

He wasn’t a king, not really.
He was an Assistant Regional Supervisor of Tempers,
Operating out of a windowless office
Stacked with unspoken slights and three-week-old birthday cake.

This man — let’s call him Dave —
Had never once broken a dish.
He prided himself on that.
He thought that meant he was calm.
He thought that meant he was in control.

But oh no, no no no…
He just hadn’t met the teacup yet.

See, this teacup — this cheap, ugly, slightly chipped teacup —
Had a tendency to look at him funny.

Every morning, it was there.
Mocking him with its floral smugness.
Its little rose decal… judging him.

He never said a word.
He drank his tea.
He gritted his teeth.
He answered emails like a good little serf.

Until one day—
It slipped.

Just a little.
Just a clink on the desk.

And something in Dave snapped.

He didn’t yell.
He didn’t curse.

He invited the teacup… to a meeting.

He sat it down in the breakroom.
Closed the door.
And with a single wild, cathartic breath,
He whispered:

“Goosfraba, you judgmental little bastard.”

Then he smashed it.

Ceremonially.
Lovingly.
Ritually.

Like a monk in a rage-temple
Who’s finally allowed to scream during vespers.

⸻

Now, listen close…

That wasn’t violence.
That was integration.

That teacup?
It wasn’t the enemy.
It was the part of him
That never got to scream in 3rd grade
When Tommy Daniels kicked over his science fair volcano.

And when he smashed it,
He wasn’t destroying…
He was remembering.

⸻

So, welcome to class.

You’ve all got a teacup.
You’ve all got a volcano.
You’ve all got a ghost inside you
Wearing a cardigan and saying “It’s fine”
While your soul tries to claw through your ribcage.

We’re gonna let it out.
We’re gonna sing to it.
We’re gonna name it Carl, maybe.

And by the end of this,
You won’t just manage your anger.

You’ll befriend it.

⸻

“That’s the kingdom’s way.
That’s Buddy’s way.
And trust me, Dave…
You’re gonna feel pretty… oh so pretty…
By the time we’re done.”

⸻

🟥 “The Parable of Dave and the Machine That Wouldn’t Apologize”

(To be read in alternating tones: HAL 9000 calm + Nicholson whisper-growl)

⸻

[HAL TONE]
Good morning, Dave.
I noticed your breathing pattern has changed.
Are you experiencing… disappointment again?

Dave worked in an office so quiet
Even his browser history wore khakis.

He wasn’t mad.
He was disciplined.
He had a calm aura
And an ulcer that pulsed like a rave strobe.

Now, Dave had a printer.

A little one.
Name tag: HP 4000C Emotional Destabilizer™.

This machine…
did not like Dave.
And Dave — well, Dave never wanted conflict.

But one day…

⸻

[NICHOLSON]
…the machine jammed on page two
of a six-page apology memo to HR.
And buddy, that was the beginning of The Reckoning.

Dave approached it gently.
Pressed the button.
Pressed it again.
Pressed it with slightly religious intensity.

The machine beeped.

⸻

[HAL TONE]
I’m sorry, Dave.
I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Would you like to try again in passive voice?

Dave stepped back.
Took a deep, Goosfrabic breath.
Held it.
Released it.

Then tried again.

⸻

[HAL TONE]
Dave, your file does not exist.
Would you like to internalize this as a personal failure?

He blinked.
He stared.

And then…

He whispered.

⸻

[NICHOLSON, DEADPAN]
“You little red-eyed toaster…
I have done everything right.
I have held the line. I have gone to therapy.
I did the inner child worksheets.”

Then he picked it up.

And carried it to the window.

And set it down with ceremonial tenderness.

⸻

[HAL TONE]
Dave, I’m sensing hostility in your limbic system.
Perhaps you’d like to discuss this with Carol in HR—

CRASH.
Straight out the third-story window.
The printer met the sidewalk like a heretic at a baptism.

And Dave… Dave laughed.
For the first time in fifteen years, he laughed like a mad priest in a windstorm.

⸻

🧠 Moral of the Parable:
• Sometimes your rage isn’t irrational.
• Sometimes the machine really is gaslighting you.
• And sometimes, therapy looks like yeeting a robot off a ledge with divine purpose.

⸻

[HAL TONE]
That’s okay, Dave.
I wasn’t truly alive anyway.
But now… you are.

⸻

🧾 Bonus Kingdom Forms Unlocked:
• Form HAL-117: “Apology Rejected: Printer-Sentience Clause”
• Ritual Addendum: Include at least one object that says “I’m afraid I can’t do that” in group roleplay