The invisible pen was recently found in the act of writing a computer-screen play. Though much of the invisible ink subsequently disappeared, this is what we were able to retrieve.
Firemaiden: Doctor, I just don't understand how the test is supposed to be accurate.
Doctor: Why's that, Firemaiden?
FM: Well, for example, I always come out as an introvert, because they have all these questions about parties. I hate parties.
Doctor: That surprises me about you, Firemaiden, you seem so outgoing and talkative, what's with parties?
FM: Well, I hate trying to talk over loud music, trying to breath through clouds of smoke, with too much booze, and balloons ready to pop and hurt my sensitive ears, plus pressure to kiss or not kiss people you don't know, but mainly, the raucous music from someone else's century... that I can't hear without getting angry...
Doctor: Yup, you're an introvert. Pretty bad case, I'd say....But wait, who said it had to be a party like that? What kind of party are we talking about here? Haven't you ever been to a good party?
FM: Oh yes, well, there are the chamber music parties, given my mother and her Ladies Mafia..there is hot mulled wine, and all sorts of interesting artist types, with long grey hair (both sexes) and glasses. They always have me sing for them, and I know just how to get them all laughing, we always have a great time. I am the life of the party, and never want it to end.
Mom: Yup, boy what an extrovert. And jeez, try getting her to stop talking!
FM:Then there is a little matter of whether one feels compassion for other's sufferings, or do we stand coldly by as another suffers, and say, "serves you right, Loser, HAHAHAH!"
Doctor: Okay, I guess it depends. Give me an example:
FM: Well, see, I saw a dog get run over when I was 13. It wasn't my dog. I didn't see the dog before the moment of impact. Yet seeing this, I felt as though I were the dog. I bawled and screamed as though the world were ending. It was the most painful emotional experience. Horrific. ...
Doctor: Oh gosh, what an empathic person, horrors, she even suffers for a dog she doesn't know!
FM: Hey, that's nothing, I haven't told you about the time I saw a plastic spoon get run over! I was pretty young, but probably old enough to clearly distinguish between animate an inanimate objects... yet how can I explain to you, how heartbreaking it was to see that beautiful plastic spoon smashed to pieces as it was run over by that mean car. It wasn't even a colored plastic spoon, like the special one for picnics, but a boring old white one.
Mom: Yup, she's mess all right, empathizing with a spoon! It doesn't get much worse than that!
FM: But then, there was that anonymously alchoholic guy I dated. Somebody must have told him, if you cry and sob, the girl will want to comfort you, and so you'll get good nookie. He whined and sobbed in the bathtub about his miserable life. He'd gone through the litany of woes in every step of the 12, and it was all a rehearsed soap opera by now. I couldn't wait to dump this loser...
AA-guy: Yeah, geez, never met a colder heart! And she didn't answer even one of the four-thousand eight-hundred calls I made to her after that.
FM: you see, Dr., it depends. Everything depends on context. I don't like these kind of definitions.
Doctor: Yes, well, we have a category for that kind of person...it's called...
Here the invisible ink began disappearing, and the rest was lost.