Being Dilbert's adopted child has it's perks. While your dad works for the Pointy-Haired Imbecile, you just sit around on a pile of Dogbert's pillows all day while Dogbert's out on his schemes to get rich quick (this time around he's started the Dogbert Small Arms Company) and screw around on a PC you got from the bowels of management.

For quite a while, Alice has been acting a bit erratically. She's been complaining every morning that she feels sick, and all day long, she's apparently felt like either crying or punching people (you're no exception). This has been going on for weeks.

After 2 and a half months of dealing with it, Dogbert has finally convinced her through a mixture of bribery and threatening her with a .22 rifle, with the actual words, "For the sake of all that is holy," to go to the doctors office and get checked out.

So, all three of you are sitting in the examination room, with Alice sitting on the table in a very light t-shirt and an overly thin skirt, you sitting in a chair in the corner, with Dogbert parking his furry little ass on your head. Alice begins telling the doctor her symptoms.

"I feel sick every morning, and all day long, I feel like either crying or punching people."

Both you and Dogbert share a glance with each other, because you both could probably guess where this might be going.

However, the doctor, after checking Alice's basic vitals, he immediately fires off his diagnosis.

"You've got a bad case of Mahjobus Crappus."

MahWHAT? Alice has a case of Mah-fucking-whatnow? You immediately glance up at Dogbert, who immediately pipes up.

"As a dog, I diagnose you with extreme incompetence. And I diagnose Alice with the symptoms of early pregnancy."

You swear this dog is smarter than all of humanity combined.