After hanging up with the pharmacist responsible for your husband's medication refill, you're unsettled to learn they're on vacation. Those pills are the difference between your kind, gentle husband and the aggressive, l figure he becomes without them. Tentatively broaching the subject during dinner, you inquire if he needs a refill. He responds, "You know I hate the taste of those, but I still have nearly a full bottle." His clever lie belies his belief that he can contain his alter ego.