The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Town of Twisted Concepts June 6, 2008

After a brief visit with the Doctor the day before, they reluctantly agreed that perhaps the other Manipulators needed to be informed. So they both did a joint summoning session which involved Psycho James going home to sit on his ass in front of a newly stolen television while the Doctor phoned up everyone to meet. As it was just about time to leave, Psycho James was still sitting on his ass, not caring if he were late. He was just about to see if there was anything worth watching on the porn channel when a bloodcurdling scream came from the bedroom.

A normal person would have jumped up to see what was wrong, whether they could do anything about it or not. A coward might have bolted from the house assuming the worst. Psycho James however sat through a couple of commercials featuring lubricant and chainsaws. By that time he had completely forgotten about it and the problem came looking for him.

Deborah squeezed her way through the bedroom door, getting jammed up quite a bit as she did so. Eventually she struggled into the living room.

“James! Look at me!”

“The name is Psycho James.”

“Whatever, look at me!”

Psycho James stared at her, not comprehending what was wrong in the slightest. She looked perfect to him. Maybe she was fishing for a compliment or trying to get him to notice a new hairstyle. Bitches were always playing games like that, trying to buff up the least noticeable features and expecting guys to automatically notice the difference.

“Yeah, yeah, your fucking hair is nice. Are you ready to go?”

“Hair, what about my hair, its my TITS! Look what happened to my tits!”

He took a closer look. She seemed to be wearing a dress, but her gigantic tits filled it out so much it was like wearing a midriff T-shirt. His whole body could have fit inside one of her mammoth mounds.

“What’s wrong with them?” Psycho James shrugged.

“I’m a B-cup!”

“Ah Jesus Christ, put on a little weight and your whole world just falls to pieces.” He scoffed and waved it off.

“A little weight? I was just in there getting ready and suddenly my chest ballooned out to the size of semis, you call that a little weight?”

“You don’t have to get all melodramatic about it, shit. Fine, come here, let me have a look at them.”

She came around and they swung wildly, nearly knocking the television off its stand.

“Hey, watch the fucking TV, I don’t feel like stealing a new one this soon.”

“Sorry.”

Psycho James pulled out a knife and slashed the dress off her huge hooters. She whined something about ruining her favorite dress, but he wasn’t really listening. The skin on her breasts was very odd, as though it were made of plastic. He rubbed the sides a bit.

“Oh Christ!” She whimpered.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

“That felt really good.”

“Hmmm, your tits were always sensitive, but not that much. Hey, what the hell?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You know those spigots that you blow into to air up inflatable objects.”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“Your nipples have turned into some.”

“What?”

“Hold on, I’m going to experiment.” He grabbed her nipples and popped the tops off of them, emitting a couple of shrieks from Deborah. He grabbed one, squeezed it hard to open up the hole and blew.

Deborah felt a tightening in her chest and noted with horror that her left breast was gradually growing even bigger. Her pussy was also starting to gush because the feelings coming from her nipples was really turning her on.

“No, please honey, I can’t go on through life with boobies this big. Help me!”

“Okay, fine, stop your bitching, I have an idea.” He took the tip of his knife and poked it hard in the side of each breast. The room echoed with two loud bangs.

Deborah screamed. Her chest had deflated to a couple of baggy airless sacks. “My breasts, you’ve popped my beautiful breasts. I wanted them smaller, not killed.” She began to sob.

“God damn, I can’t ever satisfy you. Hold on, I’ve got some inner tube patches.” He went to the garage and returned a few moments later. “Okay, here we go, now I just apply some of this glue...hmm, don’t get in contact with human skin? Ah, what the fuck do they know?”

He squirted a glob on the left breast, Deborah screamed again.

“Shut the hell up, you’re breaking my concentration. Patch it up, good, now for the right...” Loud scream. “And patched, there we go. Now to blow them up.”

He put his lips on a nipple and blew, causing desire to shoot through her body that took her mind off of the burning sensation coming from under the patches. By the time he filled up the second one, she suffered through a glorious orgasm. When her mind focused, she noticed she had a pair of inflated boobs twice the size of her normal ones.

“Um, these are still a bit bigger than usual.”

“Who fucking cares, they look fine.” Psycho James snapped, losing his patience. He pulled out his dick and sandwiched it between the melons, fucking them furiously. By god he was going to get something out of this fiasco.

Deborah noted how sensitive her flesh was; it was as if he were screwing her vagina instead of her cleavage. By the time he blew his wad right in her face, she had cum about three times. After getting his rocks off, he was much more amiable about her distress.

“There was probably a ripple in the barrier which caused your mutation.” He explained. “Which means the situation outside must have gotten pretty serious. Don’t worry about your breasts, they’ll be back to normal eventually. These things never seem to last longer than a couple of days, sometimes sooner. Never longer so far.”

Deborah nodded; it wasn’t the first time something similar had happened to them before. But it was hard to remember details like that when suffering under the constraints of a couple of Goodyear blimps on her chest.

“Now go get dressed, I believe we’re fashionably late for the town meeting as it is.”

Thirty Minutes Later

As they got to the Doctor’s office, he noticed that there were still four seats empty for the Manipulators. After taking a quick census of the people in the office, he noted the absence of Road Rage Ron, Little Missy, and her two children. With Road Rage Ron, his absence was understandable. Once behind the wheel of any vehicle, he lost all track of time and reality. So summoning him for anything was near pointless. As for the kids...

He searched around and found Little Billy sitting patiently and looking rather dejected about it. Psycho James didn’t know much about the twelve year old except that he came into the town shortly after Psycho James had slaughtered an entire busload of orphans that got a flat just outside of it. Fortunately for Billy, he had been out taking a piss at the time. Psycho James was trying to remember exactly why he slaughtered them all when he realized that he really didn’t give a shit one way or the other.

“Hey turd nugget.” Psycho James greeted the boy affectionately. “Where the hell is Missy and her brats?”

Billy sighed, looking even more depressed. “Missy and Virginia are filming a 24 hour orgy for the black market kiddy ring. And I couldn’t attend because of this stupid meeting.”

“You could have just skipped dumbass. It’s not as if you would be useful here anyway.”

“I have a heightened sense of responsibility.” He groaned.

Psycho James smirked, Billy was one of the few people that was actually a decent person after the psycho energy entered them. Since he didn’t know Billy before that change, he wasn’t really sure how radically his personality had changed. The most notable effect the psycho energy and the resulting coincidence factor had on him was that he had an incredibly difficult time getting laid. This was incredible in the fact that he was in love with Little Missy, a thirty year old hooker that transformed into the body of an eight year old girl shortly after the energy got her. In that time, despite her body’s young appearance, she had given birth to two kids, both of whom aged rapidly up to her current physical age in a matter of hours. Psycho James frequently wondered what would happen to her children if the breach in reality were ever fully sealed. Also, Missy was considered Twisted Concepts biggest slut, so the fact that she had repeatedly shot Little Billy down was quite amazing.

“What about her son, surely he’s not participating in the orgy.” Psycho James asked.

“Nah, Psycho Jeremy is acting as a sort of bodyguard, I think he’s chained up in the basement.”

“As if that would work.”

“Man, this really sucks.”

“You think that sucks!” A low almost growling voice came from the seat next to Billy. “At least you could have attempted to participate in the orgy, this one is a specifically non-bestiality movie.”

Psycho James looked down at the speaker, and glowered. “Alright, who let the god damn dog in here.”

“The dog has a name you know.” The dog sulked. “I am Fluffy Bowwow Von Barkenstein the third.”

“I don’t fucking give a shit. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well like it or not, I am one of the Manipulators, so I deserve a seat in these meetings.”

“What you deserve is my foot up your ass you crotch sniffing leg humping son of a bitch!”

“Jeez, whatever did I do to you?” Fluffy growled.

“You mean other than pissing on my shoes and sticking your nose between my bitch’s thighs?”

“Hey, she was in heat, can you blame me?”

“I’ll give you some fucking heat turd eater!” Psycho James whipped his gun out and pointed it at Fluffy’s skull.

“Yes vile sinner, do it.” Preacher Bob, who was sitting right next to the genetically modified dog, spoke up. “For once in your wretched life of sin and debauchery, do the lords will and end us of this blasphemy that mocks gods creation. End this hellish beast and perhaps it will be a small step on your way toward salvation.”

Psycho James pulled the trigger and two shots went right through Preacher Bob’s head, sending long squirts of blood splattering across the table. Preacher Bob’s body fell backward in his chair and toppled to the floor. Psycho James put his gun away.

“Be thankful dog, that there is someone even more annoying than you at this meeting.”

“I am not cleaning up this mess.” Fluffy said distastefully at the blood pooling by his chair.

“I’ll let Bob clean it up when he revives, after all, it came from his skull.” Psycho James shrugged.

The Manipulators usually were extremely difficult to kill, as the coincidence factor that came with their psycho energy helped to protect them. Preacher Bob was an exception to this rule. He died all the time, and then got resurrected shortly thereafter. The Doctor had a theory that Preacher Bob wanted to be a martyr for his faith, but didn’t want to go through the messy business of actually dying for it, so he kept coming back to life and negating the whole point of being a martyr. Psycho James had a better theory, the only people who would never die were those that you really wanted to stay dead. He wasn’t sure whether it was a curse that he could never get rid of the fucker, or a blessing that he got to kill him repeatedly. Most likely the former.

Off in one corner of the room, Psycho Bill had gotten hold of some of the Doctor’s lab rats and were flinging them against the wall and then attempting to pin them with a throwing knife. He seemed to be working on his eighth one and was very happy about it. Of course Psycho Bill was usually happy about everything that he did, considering he was retarded. As the towns most well known serial killer, he took great joy in stabbing anything that bleeds and many things that didn’t.

In Twisted Concepts, a town filled with crazies and where death was cheap, it took a lot to be labeled as psycho. So the word was used as a sort of rank for the most fucked up and dangerous kind of Conceptian. So far, there were only three: Psycho James, Psycho Bill, and his son Psycho Jeremy.

“It would please me a great deal if you would refrain from slaughtering my experiments.” The Doctor scolded as he joined the meeting.

“Psycho Bill kill good!” Psycho Bill grinned happily before biting the head off of one of the squirming rodents.

“I said leave my rats alone. Preacher Bob seems to be recovering, why don’t you stab him.”

“Huh, wazzat?” Preacher Bob’s voice slurred, not quite done ejecting all of the lead out of his brain.

“BILL KILL!” Psycho Bill jumped on his back and began cleaving his spine out with a meat cleaver. Preacher Bob gurgled and convulsed for a moment before going completely limp. Bill dragged the body off to mutilate it some more.

The Doctor was an interesting man on several points. The first one being that aside from gaining the strange coincidence factor that each of the Manipulators had, he hadn’t changed in the slightest when the psycho energy overran the town. As it turned out, the Doctor had a neutral personality, completely devoid of any morals right or wrong. He was so in balance that his subconscious was an exact replica of his consciousness. So when the energy took him, it flipped his personality for a personality that was exactly the same.

The second point of interest was that Psycho James had no idea what the hell he looked like. You could be in the Doctor’s presence for several hours, talking directly too him not more than two feet away, and then not be able to recall what his face looked like if you were asked just minutes from leaving him. He was neither tall nor short, handsome nor ugly; he had no distinguishing features at all. He was the kind of man that everyone looked over and he had taken advantage of this in his black market drug and arms dealership. An even stranger effect of the Doctor was his inability to be photographed. There were numerous pictures of the Doctor that had his head just cut out of camera view, distorted by the sun, or inexplicably smudged beyond repair. The only real description that people could give about him, if they remembered him at all, was that he had very expressive hands. Psycho James suspected that he chose the name Doctor to fit his unnoticeable stature.

“Alright, since you are all here, I suppose you are wondering why we called this meeting?” The Doctor began, his hands folded on the table.

“No, not really. I don’t even want to be here.” Billy shrugged.

“Ditto, I don’t even know why I came back to this office.” Fluffy shuddered and nervously scratched at some fleas.

“Bill Kill!” Psycho Bill said happily from his corner.

“Very well, since you are all so obviously riveted with curiosity, I will tell you.” The Doctor grumbled. “Apparently, the world, or at least this country, is being overrun by cartoons.”

“Big deal, anime is very in right now, and with CGI technology available there is bound to be a lot of experimenting.” Billy pointed out.

“I didn’t mean on television and in the theatres you ignorant brat, I meant that the country is being overrun by cartoons...literally.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, yesterday some loony tune motherfucker shot up a bank and got away with fifty dollars worth of complimentary ballpoint pens.” Psycho James sighed. “Don’t you watch any fucking television?”

“I try, but someone broke into my house last night and stole it.”

“Was it a Samsung?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Beats me, lucky guess. So Doctor, I’m guessing there is more to this than a god damn bank robbery. More shit go down last night?”

“Yes, there was, did you feel it?”

“No, didn’t have too, take a look at my bitch’s tits.” Psycho James grabbed Deborah’s shirt and yanked it over her boobs.

“Hey!” She squealed, trying to get herself concealed again.

“BOOBIES!” Billy drooled; attempting to reach for them, only to get a knuckle on his head that drove his face into the table from Psycho James. “Ouch, that hurt!”

“Keep your hands off the merchandise you little shit licker.”

Deborah had succeeded in covering up one of her breasts when Psycho James snapped at her.

“Dammit, did I tell you to cover up?”

“No, but...”

“Then keep that fucking shirt off, you’re exhibit T&A for this gathering. They have to know exactly what is going on. Besides, I want it burned into their brains just what I’m porking every night...and morning...and just about any time I wish.” He considered this for a bit, and then unzipped his pants. “Ah hell, just get over here and sit on my dick.”

“Here? But the others...”

“Do I look like I give a shit about the others, give me a god damn lapfuck.”

Deborah sighed, pulled down her tight pants, and sat in his lap making sure to line up his hard on with her vagina. Once she settled it had slid deeply inside her and to her shame it was making her feel horny. It was a good thing she got off on humiliation.

Little Billy groaned, his own hard on straining in his pants and he was unable to do anything about it. What a tease!

Psycho Bill had come back to the table, wearing Preacher Bob’s intestines like a necklace. He eyed Deborah’s bouncing boobs with fascination, considering what it would be like to stick a knife in each of the jiggling jugs.

“Alright then, I think I was trying to make a point, but forgot what it was.” Psycho James groaned, grabbing Deborah’s hips and grinding them into his lap.

“It seems my nurse...er, Deborah, has inflatable beach balls on her chest.” The Doctor pointed out.

“Oh yeah, these, almost forgot about that.” Psycho James reached around and rubbed the plastic of her tits, causing her to go into erotic spasms. “This happened this morning. Naturally it was caused by a strain on the barrier, which caused a fluctuation in the breach of reality near our town’s center. So some shit had to have gone down since we last talked.”

“I’ll say. Apparently this morning an entire girl’s gym class was subjected to a serial rapist. According to the news, all forty girls found during the aftermath claimed that a big tentacled monster grabbed them all and violated them at the same time, for two hours straight, then wilted and died after it seeded all the pussy it could get. This was confirmed by two gym teachers, likewise violated, and a janitor who was jerking off to the whole thing. Of course, authorities don’t believe any of that crap and has labeled it as a mass hallucinogen that the real serial rapist probably slipped into their Gatorade. The janitor is under suspicion.”

“Whoa, hold it.” Deborah moaned, panting heavily with the beef being thrown into her. “How can forty plus girls all fall victim at the same time to a drug leaving no witness to the rapist? Oh god, yes harder!!! I mean, it is very unlikely that...fuck me honey, fuck me good...that none managed to go get help when the first girls began to show signs of...fuck me...illness!”

“Not to mention the quart of green seed spewed in each of the girls would have been hard to explain away.” The Doctor gestured. “I’m interested in seeing the report on that. As it is, I don’t have footage of that, because the security cameras in the gym are on tape instead of via computer. Give me a couple of days and I’ll get hold of a copy.”

“Why do you need a copy?” Billy asked.

“Are you kidding, what better amateur wack off material could you ask for. I’d make a mint selling it on the Internet.”

“Hey, I like the sound of that, save me a copy.” Fluffy panted.

“What would you do with it, you don’t have hands to wack off with.” The Doctor dismissed him.

“No, but I can lick my balls. I’d like to see you try that oh high and mighty human.” The dog scoffed.

“Now, now, as much as I’m sure we are all looking forward to seeing some hot teenage tentacle rape action...oh shit, Deborah, TAKE IT ALL!” Psycho James spurted several globs of semen into his woman. “Fuck yeah, make that cunt swallow all of my spew. Where was I?”

“We are all looking forward to teenage tentacle rape action.” Little Billy suggested.

“Fuck yeah, who wouldn’t?”

“Uh, honey, can I go ahead and clean this mess out of me.” Deborah whimpered as his dick slid out of her.

“No, just hold it.”

“I’ll help you with that problem miss.” Fluffy barked suggestively.

“If your tongue gets anywhere near my bitch’s twat you flea bitten ball sack, you’ll have to learn to take your meals with a god damn straw.”

“I was just offering.” The dog grumped.

“Anyway, where did this shit go down.”

“Denver, Colorado.” The Doctor rapped his fingernails on the table. “It seems this cartoon phenomenon is moving gradually east.”

“But still no clue as to who the fuck is causing it?”

“I’m afraid not.”

About this time, Preacher Bob had grown some new internal organs and had staggered over to the table, where he flopped down on top of it.

“And the angels of mercy smiled upon me, and lo, thy wounds were healed through faith...what’s been going on?” He groaned.

“We would tell you, but we don’t give a crap about your opinion god boy.” Psycho James spat. “Get off the fucking table.”

“You Satan loving toilet mouth, you will face divine retribution for...Oh dear lord, your harlot is naked!” He pointed accusingly at Deborah. “I have said it before, to let the sinful women have a long leash creates nothing but debauchery and wickedness. A woman has no place in life other than to produce babies, hoping they have gods blessing and are male. Cover your shame temptress, thou shalt not take any of gods true followers to hell with you.”

Psycho James handed Deborah a lighter. “Here you go babe, you do the honors.”

“Well, normally I wouldn’t.” She said nervously and then dug around in her purse. “But this time I’ll make an exception.”

She pulled out a can of hair spray. She lit up the lighter and sprayed the fluid through it directly at Preacher Bob. A fountain of flame enveloped him, causing Preacher Bob to jump up and run around the room screaming as his flesh boiled. He fell to the floor in a heap of sizzling meat. Psycho Bill licked his lips hungrily.

“Great, that will leave scorch marks in my carpet.” The Doctor said peevishly.

“Wow Deb, didn’t know you had it in you? You could make a good Psycho.” Psycho James laughed.

“How horrid!” Deborah cried. “I shouldn’t have done it, but it was so...so...”

“Satisfying?” The Doctor supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, that’s the typical reaction to offing Bob.”

“You’ll get over it when the fucker comes back to life.” Psycho James said bitterly.

“As entertaining as watching Preacher Bob die for the millionth time is...” Billy interrupted. “..it is still getting us sidetracked. What are we going to do about these cartoons?”

“Well...”

“My breasts!” Deborah yelled. “Something is happening to my breasts.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to the objects of discussion. Her plastic breasts were beginning to peel around the edges as well as deflate a bit. In a short about of time, a nasty ripping sound occurred and the plastic tore apart from her chest, revealing her smaller and fleshy boobs underneath.

“Oh my!” She exclaimed. Psycho James reached over and began fondling her fleshy handfuls.

“Yep, I told you they would go back to normal fairly soon.” He then reached down and grabbed the discarded and deflated plastic lumps and tossed them at Billy. “There you go cock-fister, the only boobs you’ll ever get to fondle in your whole life.”

“I’m not that pathetic!” Billy protested, but not being able to help himself to playing with the plastic nipples.

Deborah shuddered as involuntary pleasure passed through her as the boy stroked the plastic, but it soon passed as it remained detached from her.

“Now that I’m back to normal, can I put my shirt down now?” She asked.

“Fuck no, shut up. Can’t you see I’m getting another erection here?”

“Ah hmmm, about the cartoons...” The Doctor pointed out.

“What, oh yeah, its pretty obvious. Some of us are going to have to leave this shit hole of a town and track down whatever is causing it.”

Little Billy jumped up with excitement. “Leave Twisted Concepts, and go hunt down cartoons, some of which might even be hentai! Yippee, finally a chance to get laid!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Psycho James grinned. “It’s too bad that you’re not going ass nugget. I’m only going to take useful people on this mission, like Psycho Bill.”

“Psycho Bill kill good!” Psycho Bill drooled happily.

“It’s not fair!” Billy whined.

“Ah get over it, look at it this way. As you stay here and watch over the town, you’ll have plenty more chances to completely fail at fucking Little Missy.”

“Gee thanks!” Billy grumbled.

“Don’t mention it turd sucker.” He turned back to the rest of the group. “Now then, the people I’m taking with me are Psycho Bill, the Doctor, Road Rage Ron, and of course Deborah.”

“Why me?” Deborah asked.

“Who else is going to be sucking my cock on the long drive to wherever we are going?”

She sighed. “And here I was hoping you needed some of my medical training.”

“I do, I need you to help administer some of my cream on your face and follow it up by inserting my large anal thermometer to see how hot you get.”

“I’m proud to see how my employee is so concerned over her patient’s health.” The Doctor chuckled. “I’m going to bring my video camera.”

“If you stick our sexplay on the Internet again Doc, I’m going to be expecting some royalties or you’ll find out some very unexpected things I can do with tongue depressors.”

“There’s just one little problem with this trip of ours.” Deborah shook her head, trying to change the subject. “We don’t know where we are going.”

“Ah, that’s easy enough to fix. Hey Doc, got large map of the country.”

“Of course, one second.” He stood up and wandered over to a cabinet and began fiddling inside of it.

About this time Preacher Bob had picked himself off of the floor, his charred skin already flaking off to reveal healthy skin underneath.

“Jesus of Nazareth, this hast been a bad day.” He groaned, barely able to stand.

“Hey Bob.” Psycho James greeted, snatching up the map from the Doctor who was returning with it. “Do me a favor will you, hold this map open for us.” He plopped it into the preacher’s hands.

“Thou art lost, and seek the way.” He said.

“Yeah, whatever, just open the fucking map alright.”

Preacher Bob did as he was told, his head was still foggy from dying so many times in the last hour. Soon the country was revealed to the occupants of the room.

“Alright, Psycho Bill do your thing.”

“Psycho Bill throw knife, stabby stabby!” The retarded killer whipped out a penknife before the situation could register on Preacher Bob’s mind. It shot through the air, ripped into the map, and embedded itself directly into Bob’s eye socket to penetrate the brain. The body hit the floor with a loud thud. Psycho James retrieved the map.

“Well, according to where our friend Bill threw the knife, whatever is causing these cartoons is heading for New York City.”

“That’s hardly a scientific way to deduce where it’s going. It could be wrong.” Deborah pointed out.

“Since when has the coincidence factor ever been wrong about conveniently pointing us in the right fucking direction?” Psycho James demanded.

“Well, none, but still...”

“But nothing, shut the hell up. Now all we need is a ride to get us there.”

Within an hour, Psycho James and Deborah were strolling the streets listening for the sound of a revving motor and squealing tires. Since Road Rage Ron was the only one allowed to drive anything in Twisted Concepts, cause who would want to share the road with him, he is the only one that has vehicles. Soon enough they heard the sound of tortured metal followed by a string of almost incoherent explicitives delivered at full volume. Once Ron was behind the wheel, the rage was so intense that his speech patterns were reduced to that of someone suffering from Tourettes syndrome.

In moments a beat up Chevy squealed around the corner and the driver caught sight of the two of them in the middle of its street. It’s tires peeled out as Ron stepped on the accelerator.

“FUCK SHIT COCKBAG ROAD PIZZA SON OF A WHORE PIECE OF BLOODY CRAP PEDESTRIANS!” Road Rage Ron roared, a blood vessel in his forehead about to pop.

“Um, James, this doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Deborah whimpered at the car bearing down on them and going faster.

“Its Psycho James, don’t worry about it.” Psycho James grinned, and then he shoved Deborah so hard to the side she rolled several feet away before she could stop.

She quickly looked up and saw her boyfriend brace himself as the car, now going over a hundred, targeted him.

“TIRE STAINING TAMPON STREET WALKING BUTT FUCKER!” Ron warned, pushing the car faster.

“Well, here’s hoping that coincidence doesn’t fucking fail me now.” Psycho James grimaced, and held out his hands.

Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl. The bumper of the car came into contact with Psycho James’ hands. The force of the collision went through his body and grounded into his feet, but then the reaction hit. The force came back up through him and allowed him to use the power of the car’s strike against it. His hands closed around the bumper and he lifted. In one fluid motion he flipped the entire vehicle over his head, causing it to fly, spin, and land on its hood screeching to a stop about a hundred feet away. Psycho James remained locked in his position, his back straight and his arms over his head.

“Jesus! Honey, are you alright.” Deborah rushed over to him.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure fucking glad that worked. I knew I could use someone’s own force against them in a bar fight, but I wasn’t entirely certain if it would work on a car.”

“That was a stupid thing to risk.”

“Whatever, say Deborah, are you really a nurse, or just a glorified assistant to the Doctor?”

“Yes, I’m qualified as a nurse, why?”

“Because I think I just shattered my spine.”

“Oh dear.” Deborah moved behind him while he remained a statue. She gripped under his arms and gave a sharp twist, the ugly sound of cracking emerged.

“Son of a bitch!” Psycho James screamed, and then flexed his arms. “Well, looks like you connected the bones back together.”

“Perhaps we should get you back to the Doctor’s office.”

“Fuck it, I heal pretty quickly. Go get me a beer and I’ll be alright.”

Psycho James slowly walked over to the totaled car. By the time he got there, Ron had already crawled his way out of the shattered window. Ron was completely bald because all of the testosterone and rage had long ago made his hair fall out. You wouldn’t have known that from looking at him now, as he now seemed confused and rather timid.

“What happened?” He groaned, his intelligence returning as the rage no longer had control on him.

“I just busted the fuck out of your car, that’s what bitch.” Psycho James gloated over him. “Now before you ask any stupid ass questions, I’ll get to the point. You’re coming on a little trip with us, and we need a van. Comprende dickwipe?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ron sighed, and collapsed in the broken glass.

“Pansy.”