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The%20Count
Which Sesame Street Muppet's Dark Secret Are You?

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The Count's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder It started with a simple affection for counting and the terror it induced in others, didn't it? But now it's turned into a full-blown life-consuming chaotic nightmare of order, repetition, zealousness, and perfectionism. You used to be so grand, but now you find yourself obsessively worrying over the littlest things--like, maybe if you don't check the light switch at least once every two minutes, the electricity will go out (and damnit, you're a vampire--that shouldn't be a problem!), or maybe if you don't wash your hands until your seams are coming out, you'll get some fatal disease. Get yourself some treatment.



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<td align="left">Grover on Ecstasy



You're funny, you're loveable, you're entertaining, you like to call yourself "Super Grover!"--You're obviously on ecstasy. But that's why we love you. Be careful, ok?
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<td align="left">Elmo's Past as a Transvestite Crackwhore



You're sick, you're annoying, and you're a bad influence on the other muppets. Go away! And stop trying to be the new Grover.
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<td align="left">Cookie Monster's Bulimia Nervosa



Yes, cookies *are* good. But too much of anything is never a good thing. Instead of bingeing and purging, try to regulate your eating habits. Maybe instead of having two dozen cookies, you could have two. Also, you should slow down your eating. Chew each bite several times before swallowing. Eating more slowly makes it easier to tell when you are full. And don't worry about body image--people love you just the way you are, googly eyes and all. </td> </tr>
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<td align="left">Bert & Ernie's Gay Love Affair



Look, everyone knows you two are lovebirds. Why not do the brave thing and admit it to the world? The times are kinder nowadays. There may be the odd ultraconservative bigwig or overprotective mom, but so what? Piss on 'em. Come on out of the closet. It's ok.
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<td align="left">Snuffy's Suicide Attempts



Poor baby, life is rough for you, huh? No one seems to see you, no one notices your pain--except for your friend Big Bird, but he's alway off hanging out with his other friends. You wish you were him, all happy and curious and popular and bright yellow. You feel like his shadow anymore, like the only reason you exist is to amuse him. It's hard being somebody's imaginary friend. But stop trying to kill yourself--imaginary people can't kill themselves. Sorry. And hey, maybe tomorrow you'll feel better!
Someday people will see you, I promise. </td>
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