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I nodded dumbly, speech was difficult as my mouth still ached from the Swarfega sandwiches.
"Just be thankful it's not an enema," Garf cackled at the time.
I was looking up at Garf now, watching the sweat drip off the end of his monocle only to splash on his naked abdomen. He was wearing the ceremonial dress of an Aztec warrior, more suited to today's lifestyle than any of his other clothes.
He leant forward, the sweat poured off his enormous quivering belly, and splashed on my forehead. It was like some incredibly sick form of baptism, for I was one of his now, yet another poor fool forced into his demonic enterprise. And let's face it if ever an enterprise were demonic then this is it.
What looks like a fairly innocuous Internet magazine is, in fact, stage three in a bid for global conquest. And global conquest by a confirmed lunatic who won't rest until we all come round to his twisted way of thinking.
Still, I should be grateful, it's only the blackmail angle he's got me on, most of his staff have been conditioned (by an extremely complex and sophisticated mixture of hypnotism, sleep deprivation, hallucinogenic love drugs and Toilet Duck), into sudden spontaneous and uncontrollable dual incontinence, upon the utterance of the command Michael Portillo.Garf gave an ugly snort and topped his glass of creme de menthe with a splash of H.P. sauce. “At last you've made the right decision! We could have avoided all of this. Please send my condolences to your mother. I'm sure the surgeons can remove all of the ball-bearings without a lasting scar.”
I spat the last of the Swarfega out.
"You degenerate swine, just what makes you think you can get away with it?" I cried.
"My dear boy, I already have! Take That have already split up!" sneered Garf.
"But that means..." I said.
"I know, all is now set, I'm going to be the next teen rock sensation, as big as Bros!"
"And they were crap too!" I retorted.
At this, his manner changed, his face started to acquire the same shade of scarlet as his nose. He reached behind himself and grabbed the cattle prod, and almost playfully gave me another 15,000 volts. I was starting to get used to it by now, and was in fact starting to enjoy shooting sparks out of my mouth. Still, I didn't want him to know that.
"Don't you ever say anything like that about Matt and Luke again," he belched.
I dumbly nodded before lapsing back into unconsciousness. So I was onboard, part of Garf's sick design. Still maybe I can use this as a chance to subvert the scheme, from the inside. And, if the negatives are made public it will be more damaging to the Armed Forces Minister, after all, it's his budgie.
White! You're fired! - Ed.
