Danbury, he certainly was good at what he does.
"So how bout it, Mindwriter? Are you ready to move mountains with your powers? If so, then join us. You've been given a power above all others. How ‘bout it? A Mindwriter is a terrible thing to waste."
As I mulled it over, I noticed Clement had slipped out of view. Then I found him, gently at my back, as he held a syringe at my throat. "This is some sales pitch you got, Horace. What the hell is he doing?"
"Careful, Mindwriter," Clement said softly. "I wouldn't make any sudden movements if I were you."
"Please understand, Mr. Sarcy, I wasn't boasting when I said you have a power above all else. So, you see, we had to take some precautions with you. Just in case we were unable to convince you."
I tried to read Danbury's mind but there was a block. I noticed Clement’s other hand fastened to my neck and shoulder.
"Didn’t I say Clement is a perfect addition to any outing?" Danbury looked me in the eye. "Please, Mr. Sarcy, don't dwell on the needle. And by all means, don't let it affect your decision.
"What's in the syringe?" I asked, like these guys were gonna to tell me.
"Mr. Sarcy, let's not get inquisitive. All I need to hear from you is where you stand. For all your limitlessness, are you willing to limit yourself and your ego, and submit for once in your life? Will you use your powers to serve your country?"
"There really was no need for all the theatrics, Horace. You've given me a glimpse into the future, and what I could be, and wasn’t exactly opposed to any of it. So, despite all this bullshit, I will submit. I will join you."
Sure, I would do his bidding. I would join the Organization. For a while. Until something better came along. And believe you me, Oprah, something did.
Episode 1
B Side:
Danbury's Wet Dream
The Organization, or as I prefer, The Orgasmization, since Danbury seemed to get his jollies off of it, welcomed me with open arms. And open hands. In fact, they were quite handsy with me. No matter what I did or wherever I went, Clement, my Numb Nuts Nanny, was always there, anxious to hand me in some fashion in order to keep my mind from writing. I couldn't get too pissed about it, though. I mean, if they hadn't done this, I would have rewritten every mind in the place and would have been running the place within an hour.
The only time Numb Nuts or that bag of bolts, Falkirk, weren't all over me, was when Danbury put me on display for all those high ranking government stiffs. I hated that shit. All those fossilized fucks in their tailored suits or military uniforms with a bazillion medals, were nothing but a bunch of fags or child molesters.
Don't get me wrong, Oprah, I don't have anything against fags. I just don't like the deception. If you like to suck cock then say you like to suck cock. That's my motto.
As far as child molesters, well that depends. If you're 18 and the girl's 16, then I don't see a problem with that. But if you're 50 and the girl's 12, well, those guys just need to be taken out back and shot in the head. And let me tell you, Oprah, there's a lot more of those guys than you think. As a mind reader, I see these guys more often than I care to admit. When I was first starting out, I used to try and do a mindwrite right on the spot, but it's a pretty fucking futile endeavor. It's like trying to get rid of cockroaches. If you don't get every little one of them, eggs and larva included, then you're screwed! And like cockroaches, these perverts and their perverted thoughts are resilient as hell. Just like in the physical world, where you never know where they're hiding all their sick goodies, you never know where they're hiding all their mental goodies. And if you miss any of that stuff, you're screwed. Cuz it'll multiply like cockroaches. So like I said, it's best to just take them out back and shoot them in the head.
For the most part, these little presentations were pretty basic. For instance, I'd be standing there on the stage, and next thing I know, a couple agents dragged in some badly beaten terrorist prisoner. Probably some fuck who had something to do with 9-11. And then Danbury would address the crowd, giving them a rundown of the terrorist's alleged offenses and how interrogation has been unfruitful in getting any information from the guy. So, then he would ask the crowd what they wanted to know from the terrorist. And then some military fuck would say, "Ask that El-Qaeda fuck where his boss, Osama Bin Laden is hiding out." Then Danbury would turn to me, giving me a look like he needed me to put on a good show.
Unfortunately for Danbury, I'm nobody's trained monkey. I refused to sugarcoat shit. So, during the presentations, I would walk up to the terrorist, all beat to the brink of death, and I would search his mind. Sometimes, there was something of value. But usually, there wasn't shit. One time, I just said, "Well, the reason this guy hasn't told your people shit is because he doesn't know shit. This guy is a fucking baker back home. He's not in El-Qaeda. In fact, all this fucking so-called terrorist is thinking about is seeing his family and holding his fucking son, Habib, one last time before he dies." Needless to say, that wasn't one of the more shining presentations. But some of the more sensible higher-ups in the audience appreciated knowing the truth, once and for all. Enough that Danbury was able to get the funding for his precious Orgasmization.
It was pretty funny, though. If those guys had an inkling of what Danbury intended to do with their money, they would rip up their checks before they ever finished writing them. Danbury was basically an insatiable megalomaniac in a cheap suit, hell-bent on taking over the world. And thanks to me, this psychopath had them eating out of his hands. I'm not sure why I went along. I guess I got a kick out of seeing the world coming unraveled before my very eyes. To be honest, Oprah, I was never long for this world anyway. It might be enough for you to take over the world. Some of us just aren't content with one measly world. Especially one as messed up as this one.
Trust is a funny game. Danbury so wanted to trust me. And I so wanted to make him feel like he could trust me. And so, that's exactly what I did. Until one day, Danbury let me be on my own. No Nanny Numb Nuts. No Falkirk breathing his mechanical breath down my neck. I finally had my freedom. What a mindfuck that was. My initial inclination, of course, was to abscond, hopefully never to see any of these dickheads again. Then I realized something. At that very moment, there really wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be. Where could I go and have this much access to the world's central nervous system? So, instead, I just bided my time, waiting for something that intrigued me. And that came in the form of Danbury's Wet Dream.
So, Danbury's got this daughter. Nothing special. I mean, really, what woman is special? Women, after all, are basically put on this earth to manipulate and negotiate in order to reach an ends to a means. I mean, if they had a rational bone in their body, they wouldn’t know what to do with it. What makes women what they are is their complete and utter flippantness. Every last one of them carries the gene of insanity. Some more than others. If you ever had a chance to peruse one of their minds you'd know what I mean. Of course I realize who I'm talking to. I realize you're a woman. But you're, by far, at the head of your class. I mean, tell the truth, Oprah, it always was your plan to capture the minds of all these birdbrains. You knew, if you could just grab their attention long enough, you could fill your coop full of them, a nation of birdbrains at your beck and call, and making you rich in the process.
Anyway, back to Danbury's daughter. I didn't mean to imply that Danbury's daughter was his Wet Dream. I mean sure, after spending a considerable amount of time in his mind, I noticed Danbury placed her in a position far too prominent for a daughter. I opted not to explore this any further. It was enough to know he cared for her so much. That way, it would make it that much more pleasurable when I had my way with her. You know how I said I didn't use my mindwriting to get women in bed? Yeah, I was lying about that. This was different anyway. This was really between me and Danbury. The fucking would just be a beneficial byproduct of my revenge.
The first time Danbury let me in his office without Numb Nuts, I noticed Danbury’s mind was intermittently focused
on a picture frame lying face down on his desk. So I did a little research right then. I took a stroll down Danbury's memory lane and found out Danbury turned it face down whenever I came into his office. He should know that doesn't do any good. I just looked at the image in Danbury's mind, which was nothing more than a typical, outdated family portrait, with Danbury, Mrs. Danbury, and a little girl who was by this time college age and attending a university in Illinois.
"Are you listening to me?" Danbury asked.
"Of course I'm listening," I said.
"I have something for you on the horizon."
"Not another performance for your big wig cronies, I hope."
"No. We have plenty of funding now, thanks to you."
"Great. What's my cut?"
Danbury's face gave a slight look of discomfort.
"Kidding," I said.
"I've been hearing something strange going on in the New England area, which led me to a most talented man. Perhaps the most powerful mutant I've ever seen."
"Sounds promising."
"Yes. His name is Chris Bontey. His powers are in their infancy. He's only now discovering them. I've been able to capture some footage of him." Danbury glanced over his shoulder at a clear space on the wall. The space opened to reveal a small screen and played some