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 Bob 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 one year," 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 Bob. 
 
 Six months later the doctor met Bob 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!"

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