My interrogator delivers a hard slap, whipping my head violently to the side.  The steel chair I’m currently tied to has been bolted to the floor, so even though it rattles in protest, it stays right where it is.

“Ve VILL get ze novelty from your brain, Kent Wayne!”

(her accent doesn’t surprise me one bit)

I respond with a dark chuckle.  “Impossible.  My Buddy for Life Bitefighter has trained me in advanced interrogation resistance.   Don’t let his cutesy name fool you; he’s an 83rd level intellect and a 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire.  Plus I’ve read every Batman comic in existence, including the stupid crossover ones with Marvel, so I know how to withstand your sick bullshit.  There’s no way I’m bowing to your uninspired Gestapo tactics, you Accounting Cabal thug.”  (If you didn’t already know, the field of Accountancy has infiltrated all areas of life, and while its college courses may be run by harmless-sounding nerds, its sinister roots run far deeper than you could possible imagine).

She straightens up and regains her composure, dialing back her cheeseball accent.  “Perhaps you’re right—perhaps you’ve gained the mental capacity to withstand our harshest techniques.  Perhaps no amount of mutilation, deprivation, or psychotropic assault will sway your mind.  But I’m willing to bet you’re vulnerable to ONE method—thus far, no one has been able to hold up against it.  It’s diabolically simple yet incredibly effective; almost everyone breaks in less than a minute.”

I turn my head and spit on the concrete floor.  My saliva reflects the harsh light pouring from the single naked bulb positioned overhead.

“Bring it, bitch.”

She claps twice and the door opens.  My ex Irma walks in, holding a bunch of frou-frou snacks.

Oh no.  Oh dear God NO—FOOD MOANING!

She lowers her face to my ear and starts eating her caviar cupcakes and medium-rare quail’s ass, or whatever heinous bullshit she once convinced me to spend boatloads of money on.  “Mmmm…”  Her lids flutter.  “MMMMMMMM….”  Nompfglompfmompf!  “OHHHHHHHH GODDDDD!!!!  YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS, KENT!  SO GOOOOOOD!!!!”

My eyes squeeze shut.  Twin trails of tears trickle down my cheeks.  After a few seconds, they reach my lips and I taste copper.  These aren’t regular tears; Irma’s food-moans are making me cry tears of blood.

“P-p-p-please,” I manage in a stuttering gasp.  “Please st—”

“MMMMMRRRAAGGGHHH!!!  OH IT’S SO MUCH BETTER THAN ANYTHING YOU’VE EVER EATEN!  MMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!”

I see liver spots breaking out across my flesh as it withers and wrinkles, turning old and gray in the span of seconds.  My hair falls out in giant patches.  If I had access to a mirror, I’m a hundred percent certain that if I looked into its surface my eyes would appear ancient and rheumy.

So I rip a geriatric arm free of my restraints, reach into my pocket, and open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Neil De Grasse Tyson leaps through a glowing interdimensional portal and spinning jump-side-kicks Irma square in the chest, sending her staggering back.  “GET OFF HIM, FOUL PIT-CREATURE!” he cries.

Then he presses both hands together as if in prayer, and draws his fingers apart.  In the space between them, a radiant web of interconnected equations, proofs, and evidence-based metrics arise into being, imprinting the air with one of the most beautiful instantiations of Irma’s chief weakness:

Logic.

Irma and my interrogator shriek and hiss, stumbling back and shielding their faces.  Neil executes some setential kung fu, manifesting sizzling blocks of deductions, conclusions, and hard-ass data.  When my oppressors flee from my cell, I find that my body has been restored to that of a hulking Man Child.

Whew!  Thank the Dark Knight!  That was a close one!  😀

Have you been trapped within a dark dungeons run by an evil nerd, one who hopes to pry your brain open with the most unethical interrogation technique in all of existence?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition I’m starting a podcast:  Logical Idiots!  If you want to check out the trailer, see it here:  Logical Idiots Trailer and help two complete morons out by subscribing, liking, and commenting!  Also, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com!  Go check out his computer-based wizardry  🙂 🙂 😀

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, upcoming podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  😲💪 😜

 

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