Title: Mindf*ck
\nAuthor: Harper Kingsley
\nGenre: superhero, dialogue<\/p>\n
"I have so many regrets about today. I’m actually worried I might be investigated by the IRS or whoever it is that handles crazy breakdowns in public places. It wasn’t that lady’s fault, but I was having a bad time and I really didn’t want to be there. It was way above and beyond any kind of acceptability though, I just… I… I couldn’t stop the words from coming. My usual fucked up ‘hope they die in a fire’ thing. But really I metaphorically kinda do, because if someone’s really stolen my identity, and that’s why I can’t get a bank account now… That’s messed up. And I hope they’re earning me a ton of social security credits. Though that’s probably illegal and the government would just take them away and…"<\/p>\n
After a long pause. "What’s going on here?"<\/p>\n
"We’re being robbed. And you talk too much."<\/p>\n
"Oh."<\/p>\n
"YOU! Get over there with your friend. Keep your hands where I can see them."<\/p>\n
"Yessir. Yessir. Oh god, we’re going to die."<\/p>\n
"Not unless you press me. You hear?"<\/p>\n
"Yessir.<\/p>\n
"Kneel, what do you think we should do?<\/em>"<\/p>\n "I think you shouldn’t lay it on so thick with the ‘Yessir. Yessirs.’ He’ll probably try to pistol whip you and break his gun.<\/em><\/p>\n "Can you handle him already?<\/em>"<\/p>\n "Fine, fine.<\/em> As you wish.<\/em>"<\/p>\n "What was that? Hey! Hey you, sit back down. Don’t come over here. Hey! What’s wrong with you? Are you really trying to get me to shoot you?"<\/p>\n "I’m sorry it has to be like this. But we’re hiding, you see. We really can’t talk to anyone that might put two-and-two together and get ten."<\/p>\n "What… What are you talking about? Hey. You’re hurting me. I can’t feel my fingers. Don’t."<\/p>\n "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Do you have anyone that you want to receive your death benefit?"<\/p>\n "Please. I don’t know anything. I won’t tell anyone anything. I broke in here. I broke the law. I don’t want to talk to no cops. Don’t kill me man. Don’t kill me."<\/p>\n "What if I snapped your neck right now? Nobody would ever know what happened to you. It’s the kind of thing I have to think about all the time, creeping and crawling through my brain. The thought of murdering<\/em> you makes me hard."<\/p>\n "Oh god. Please don’t. If I could, I’d forget you if I could."<\/p>\n "Is that really so? Feel this<\/em>."<\/p>\n "Ahhh! What was that? Oh no. You got superpowers, don’t you? You got them."<\/p>\n "Ding-ding-ding. Looks like you got one thing right tonight."<\/p>\n "You can’t not be somebody<\/em>. Who… who are you?"<\/p>\n "Mindfuck."<\/p>\n "…"<\/p>\n "He passed out and peed his pants. I think you did your job a little too well."<\/p>\n "Dammit. That stain’s never going to come out of the carpet."<\/p>\n "Well, go on then, Mindfuck<\/em>. Make sure he doesn’t have any of our stuff on him, then haul him out of here. Did you already wipe our address and muddle our faces?"<\/p>\n "Of course. You’re a dashing 1990’s Antonio Banderas-cousin, and I’m a svelte redheaded lady in denim overalls."<\/p>\n "You should be ashamed of yourself."<\/p>\n "Never.<\/p>\n "I see you’re in the chair tonight?"<\/p>\n "I felt like using my wheels."<\/p>\n "I see. I’ll just take this guy out the back and drop him off a block over."<\/p>\n "Be careful."<\/p>\n "Of course. I always am when I know you’re here waiting for me."<\/p>\n "The guilt-trip has to end sometime. I think that time is tonight. What do you say, Mindfuck<\/em>?"<\/p>\n "Fine.<\/p>\n "I hate that using code names in front of this guy makes me sound terrible. I chose that name when I was 14 and thought I was the baddest of bad asses."<\/p>\n