“My name is Lucian Rhys Harned, and I used to be a spy until….”

Day #1: I get evicted from my place, which is complete bullshit as I’ve been there for almost 9 months and I haven’t done shit wrong! Didn’t even give me 30 days notice to pack my things! But I guess it’s OK because my heat went out as I was leaving and it got right frigid all of the sudden…good luck to the next poor shlep that moves in there! Then I got attacked by a gang; huge, beefy thugs that pushed me around, humiliated me by sticking a rubber hose up my nostrils, roughed me up then finally one tried to shank me! I moved too fast for them and they only got me in the heel of my foot. At least the rest of the night was quiet, though it looks as though I’m in some sort of medical facility. There must have been an accident and perhaps I have amnesia as I don’t remember anything.

Hopefully tomorrow will prove to be a better day…

 

Day #2: Still without a place to live, but I am trying to be hopeful. Then the gang from last night shows back up (and several times, mind you) and repeatedly strips me down naked and attempts to water-board my toosh (I don’t think that’s the way it is supposed to be done). I did get a boob thrown in my face repeatedly, and that was pretty nice. Still without heat, though.

Just so tired all of the time…

 

“12 Monkeys: Lucian’s Captivity”

Day #3: Still homeless, still being tormented by the same gang and their fascination with my derrière, and then some bitch tried to cut the tip off my whanker! How can my week possibly get any worse?! Oh, and I was called “yellow” or something like that. Around midday I was placed into a thickly padded box, covered up and thrown into a vehicle of some sort. There were so many turns, I believe they were intentionally trying to confuse me. When the cover was finally removed, I was in some type of compound. I think the hussy that tried to snip my wick mist have drugged me, as I can barely keep my eyes open for now.

Somehow I feel I’m in for a rough night…

 

“The Lost Boys: Lucian’s Hazing”

Day #4: The night was indeed as sleepless as I feared it would be. I continued to sleep most of the day, and again received the alternating rump roughhousing followed by a boobie brigade. The gang members were fewer in number, but the same antics applied. Got to take a road trip…that was pretty cool. “Almost” made me forget about someone trying to separate my Jolly from my Roger yesterday. Then it happened again…the biggest gang member with the loud , deep voice stripped me completely naked (has the last 2 days not satiated your fiendish appetite?!) again while some broad shoved a stick right up my arse! I mean, WTF?! She said she was taking my temperature, but “I. Call. Bullshit.” in my best Matthew McConaughey impersonation. Are your lives THAT meaningless that all you have to do is torture me?! Am I Dante, somehow having lost Virgil’s guide and now I’m doomed to the 9 Circles?! And then more talk about me being “yellow”…there’s more to life than the color of one’s skin, buddy!

That’s it! I’ve had it! I’m going to go crash then tomorrow I’m moving!

 

“Fear and Loathing in Lucian Vegas”

Day #5: Last night I thought I was going to die. It started out with the usual rounds of Amsterdam-inspired torture, but then the bar was raised. Again all this talk about me being “yellow”, and something about needing the “billy blanket” (whatever that means). Back from my roadtrip with Spyder…I dont know his actual name, but he seems to get some “Wild Bill/Silence of the Lambs” thrill minus the Lotion in a Bucket vibe from repeatedly wrapping me up in this mesh material from my shoulders all the way down to my toes until only my head is sticking out…and he whips out the said-blanket. First of all, it’s flexible plastic, not cloth, and it’s no bigger than the sub-zero moist towelettes used against my bum and spirit at least 6 times a day, so it’s a stretch to call this thing a blanket. It gives off this weird electric-blue color, such that all we needed was a couple of fog machines, a few laser lights, some shitty techno music and we could have started filming “Blade 5: Daywalker of the Tax Evaders.” Once again Spyder spun his web around me but this time with electric blue against my back causing me to look like a cross between a character from Tron, a Lite-Brite and a Glow Worm. Then they just left me in solitary confinement. Later, they tried to poison me by forcing me to drink some elixir they called “Similac” (I think I heard about this on one of those Sci-Fi Channel futuristic shows) from a short, fat bottle. Within a couple of hours I had never had such pain course throughout my abdomen! Now I know how the infected in the movie “Aliens” felt. It was agony. When the toxin finally left my body, I was drained. The only sliver lining to it was the heinous-anus evacuation ended up squarely in Spyder’s hand. I won’t lie…that made me smile.

Took another road trip with Spyder and his Dame early in the morning. I don’t know what she sees in him. She’s the only one that’s nice to me…maybe it’s the “boobs in my face factor” talking, but if it wasn’t for her I don’t if I’d still be here. A new giant at the “clinic” today; he was all nice and cheerful, but can’t fool me. Before I knew it, once again there I was stripped naked in front of everyone while this other female cut my foot again. Foot-fetish bitches…the whole lot of them. Apparently the were happy with my “yellowness” today, and continued their fattening me up ritual…how far away is Thanksgiving from now? Am I on the menu?! My Glow-Worm renditions continued, while they put me to bed…really?! Can you sleep with iridescent glow of a cheap strip club emanating from over your shoulders?! Somehow I managed with the help of Spyder’s Dame again. She even gave me a gentle bath until the brute showed back up. Rest of the night was pretty quiet for once.

God-knows what they have planned for me in the morrow…

 

“Legacy of Lucian: Soulreaver”

Day #6:  It seems they are moulding me into a schedule here in the compound. Mostly lead by Spyder, though his cronies are never far away. Every 3 hours it’s either a boob or a bottle thrust into my face…now that I say that out-loud, part of me wonders why I’m bitching about it. Probably because of the incessancy of the routine; day and night, the script is the same. As is the repeated stripping me down and cold-ragging me “South of the Border.” I’ve fought them every way I know how, even so much as trying to urinate or defecate directly on them (especially Spyder), but they prove to be unyielding. I wonder how long it took the newest concubines of the Roman Republic to finally break? Maybe they’re testing that very thing in me, but I won’t give the pricks the satisfaction. Another road trip this afternoon to see the same giant in the “clinic” and his coven of foot-cutting harpies…once again I was completely stripped down (I keep waiting for the fire hose to be used) and heel lacerated. At least they alternate feet so they can spread out the suffering. Spyder was pleased that their attempts at fattening me up are working, but my Lite-Brite backside courtesy of that stupid “billy blanket” has to continue. By mid-afternoon, I was feeling especially horrid. Not really sure why…just couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. My captures call it “The Kolik,” which must be asshole-speak for feeling like you’re going insane. At least it finally got to Spyder in the wee-hours of the night by the look on his face and he left me be for several hours. Spyder’s dame once again was my only refuge; she stayed up with me all through the night. I saw the sun rise for the first time today, and then passed-out. Unfortunately, I hear yet another road trip to the “clinic” is on the schedule for later today.

I really should have moved a few days ago when I first thought about it…

 

“The Empire Strikes Lucian”

Day #7: It’s been a week now since my life changed forever. At the end of my last entry, I had just recalled having a horrific night of what the Giants call “The Kolik” that plagued me until the sun came up. Consequently, the remainder of the day has been a haze akin to the aftermath of a Phish concert. Went back to the “clinic” again just so another blade-wielding hussy from “Kill Bill” could get in on my pedal blood letting. My weight was down, probably from the excruciating night…good, less of Spyder to devour of me since he’s obviously bulking me up as a main course at some point. I learned that my “yellowness” is also what they call my Billy…and they didn’t like whatever they saw. If they don’t like it, then why do they insist on putting me repeatedly on that stupid “Billy blanket?!” Something doesn’t add up…fatten me up yet poison me, dress me up then strip me naked, Billy this and Billy that. Anyway, they decided to change my diet because of last night’s torture…ummmm, have you assholes PAID ATTENTION to what’s happened to me over the past week?! You’d have some tough nights, too! I’ve become the poster child (why does that sound ironic in my head? But I digress…) for “PTSD: Post Traumatic Spyder Disorder”! But then I got a ray of hope…they’re changing my diet to something called “Alimentum.” I’m pretty sure that’s the same stuff used to make Wolverine the badass he is today! So go ahead Spyder and all you cuttin’ bitches from the clinic…laugh it up, Chuckles! Because before you know it once that Alimentum kicks in I’m gonna turn “Zero-Dark-Thirty-Meets-Honey Badger-on-Bath salts” on ALL OF YOUR ASSES! But until that moment, I guess I’m stuck here with my electric blue version of “Wilson” from “Castaway” as I hangout in my crib…which isn’t nearly as cool as Ice Cube made it sound. I don’t even have a tin cup to rake across the bars…then again, since I have no fine motor dexterity yet for repetitive motions I’d just look more like a citizen of Lilliput with Parkinson’s asking for handouts…

Really need that Alimentum to kick in…

 

“Mad Lucian: Beyond Thunderdome”

Day #8: And so began my second week of captivity under the siege of Spyder and his henchmen. Yet another road trip to the clinic for another bloodletting. Spyder sabotaged me apparently, as he used the Billy blanket on me one more day when the clinic giant wanted to see what I could do without it; thanks to Captain Douchebag, now I have to come back tomorrow for yet another test (I’m beginning to think the clinic giant studied under Theodoric of York, and all things can be cured by a good bleeding). My Warden was happy with my progress, because he got all exited when they took away the Billy blanket and that my weight was stable. They now also believe I don’t have “The Kolik” but instead think it is some protein sensitivity that is doing much better on the Alimentum…here’s a newsflash for you, asshat, I didn’t HAVE these problems before all of you giants interfered! There I was all snug in my nice albeit humble 1-bedroom apartment a week ago and then suddenly I was thrust into all of this! Ironically, I don’t really remember eating at all prior to then, which is odd. Regardless, they took away my Billy blanket and contued my force-feedings of Alimentum (Hugh Jackman, eat your heart out!). Later in the day, Spyder’s brother, Bobby Walton, arrived with his mercs in-tow. A gargantuan of a man with flowing red lockes and covered in tattoos and scars, it was easy to see he was not one to be trifled with. I feigned being asleep just so his gaze couldn’t steal part of my soul. I overheard his discussion about him overseeing security somewhere East of here…is that where I’m being shipped next? His second lieutenant, Carrie Brown Walton (aka “Tinkerbeast”) looks harmless on the outside but has an aire about her suggesting she has a special key to unlock the Gates of Hell if needed. The third in their group, Elodie, is still in training but already shows the bravado of Joan of Arc. Spyder made a fire outside and fixed a festive meal while they satiated themselves with their own bottles (albeit larger than mine and at least they can hold the damn things themselves) and discussions. Works for me, because so long as Spyder is occupied with you, he can’t be tormenting me or noticing my plans for escape. The group carried the festivities into the night, and at the end I wasn’t shipped off, which is good because I need more time for my Alimentum-skeleton to develop.

I guess tomorrow is yet another road trip to the House of Foot Pain…

 

“Underworld 2: Rise of the Lucian”

Day #9: I’m starting to get used to our dailyroad trips, though they can keep the foot gouging. There’s something about being put in the carrier they use to transport me…ironically, it makes me feel safe even if Spyder is the one toting me around. He likes to keep it covered like I’m some bloody parrot and he’s enticing me to go to sleep; since I find myself zonked shortly thereafter, apparently it works. Scales showed I’m fatter today (that, or my Alimentum-skeleton is filling in! Wolverine blades any day now!), and my blood tests are looking better on their own so no more Billy blanket at all. In fact, the giant at the clinic said not to repeat studies for another 2-3 days, so I get a little break tomorrow; I think tomorrow is Sunday, but all of the says seem the same in here. Spyder seemed occupied around the compound today, so his Dame watched over me most of the day. She seems to have a kind soul; maybe she’s my key to getting out of here. Always nurturing, seeing if I’m OK, talking to me…plus the breast-barrage multiple times per day is a perk to say the least (Gold Star!). She made me work out today; called it “tummy time” and forced me to work from a prone position. Lord, everything on me feels so large and heavy. The whole day seemed very tranquil, but sometime after midnight they must have decided to poison me again, albeit a smaller dose. More of those same abdominal pains, although less severe. I could still eat some, but sleeping was a foreign concept to me. Spyder even showed some heart and tried to take care of me for over 2 straight hours, but the poisoning was stronger than all of his walking, swaying, swinging, humming and singing could remedy. He even tried his “swaddle” technique using his tightest spun web around me to date; with only my head showing, i just knew he was finally planning on eating me right then. Eventually the Dame returned and sent Spyder elsewhere, and after some time I konked-out.

Maybe since there’s no road trip tomorrow I’ll get a chance to sleep in?…

 

“Batdad vs Lucian”

Day #10: Today started out as a particularly good one. As I awakened, I was enraptured by a scent so captivating, so mesmerizing, so encompassing. Spyder stood in front of a large, flat alter while little swirls of phantasms wafted upwards, carrying with them an essence that also must have been used on Eve by Lucifer himself in the temptation to eat the Apple. Short pieces arranged into rows and columns, slowly turning a darker hue. He called it “bacon”; somehow, such a small word doesn’t seem to due it justice. F@$&, why don’t I have TEETH! Since we didn’t have to make another road trip, the harpies at the “clinic” will have to stow their boxcutters for another day. Spent the day again with the Dame…she even gave me a bath, and while at first I didn’t care for it, it’s growing on me. That is until Spyder thought he saw some type of rash in my private region (again, WHAT is your fascination with the repeated dressing me up just to strip me down?! Your mind games are so exhausting!). Next thing I knew, we started buttering my nuts with some cream like a dinner roll from Texas Roadhouse. There’s a commercial for “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” not ready for primetime. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful… until the nighttime arrived. Like some Gypsy’s tale from the heart of Transylvania, the monster inside of me fought to get out. I couldn’t sleep…I was just full of so much RAGE! is that the Alimentum taking effect? Is this what Wolverine feels like every night? But then Spyder put me on his chest, and a calmness spread over me. He then curled up in the reclining chair in his throneroom with me laying right there, and let me sleep all through the night.

I still say this wouldn’t have happened if I had been given some bacon…

 

“Dueces Wild”

Day #11: A mere one day after Spyder introducing me to the aroma of bacon, and I’m already hooked. But there was no bacon today, for we had another road trip to the”clinic”. I came prepared this time…I had a little surprise for everyone. Same script as before, they stripped me down to weigh me and see if their bulking-up program was working. Just when they got their digits and was happy with my progress I opened the bomb bay doors and DOOKIE AWAY! It may seem childish, but screw it. New broad at the “clinic” today; I limed her only because she said I didn’t look that “yellow” to her (thanks, I guess) so no need for a foot cutting! AND, didn’t have to come back for a WEEK! I was so happy I dookied on myself! That seemed to be my theme for today, which was much-needed. Just glad they weighed me pre-catharsis. Once again the day was otherwise uneventful while the nighttime consisted of me going Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde. The Dame stayed up with me this time, allowing Spyder to grab a few winks before he took over at 4am.

I don’t see what the fuss was about…I slept fine…

 

“8mm Reborn: Lucian’s Limelight”

Day #12: Today was an…abomination. To say this was retaliation, or retribution is like saying the movie “Hostel” was about a budget-conscious bed and breakfast in Europe. Sure, the night before I may have been a little rowdy and caused both Spyder and his Dame to not rest as they would have liked…but to have stooped to such a level of depravity is unfathomable. I should have known something was up when they roused me from my cell early in the morn and proceeded to wash me down. Then we went for another road trip…but this time it wasn’t to the “clinic”; no, we went to a place infinitely more sinister. It seemed harmless enough…soft light, warm temperature, soothing sounds, soft fabrics and bed. I found myself getting progressively sleepier, so much so I didn’t notice the camera and photography equipment. Then…off came my clothes and shutters started snapping. The lady there kept repositioning me, posing me, putting different hats on me and backgrounds around me. Where the hell was Chris Hanson when I needed him! For 3 hours I was the posterchild for “Snapchat: Afterhours”. They must have initially drugged me, and its effects finally started wearing off near the end. But I was still so foggy-headed; I tried to get a lick in on Spyder when he was holding me. I took aim and fired…but I hadn’t realized he had passed me back off to the Dame, so my urinary-onslaught caught her squarely in the breasts and soaked her front. Guess my next meal is going to have a hint of Bear Grylls “drinking your own urine to survive.” We finally left and my captures grabbed a bite to eat on the way home…I home they bloody choke on it. I just crashed the rest of the day. I still tried to get some payback on Spyder in the evening by refusing to sleep; but he swaddled me up again and curled me into his chest while crashing in another part of the compound so the Dame could sleep. I woke up 4 hours later.

Damn that Spyder…

 

“The Exorcist 3: Lucian’s Awakening”

Day #13: Today was better than yesterday, though I’m still not over my captures subjecting me to “Little Photoshop of Horrors”. No road trips today, no foot bleedings…actually pretty quiet day. The Dame exercised with me today, more “tummy time” as she called it…never seen someone get so excited over someone rolling over (what am I, training for Westminster Kennel Club?!). Otherwise the day was repeated alternates of my bulking-up program and sleep. I overheard Spyder and the Dame talking today saying they don’t think I have “The Kolik” (still not sure what that is supposed to be) or gas problems (really?! It’s like I’m not laying right in front of you! Tacky!), but more my “attitude at night” is behavioral. Well, Sparky let’s do a recap of the past 2 weeks…kicked out of my home, taken to a compound and put into a cell, force fed on a schedule, repeatedly stripped naked, the foot shankings and then yesterday’s missing “To Catch a Predator’s” photoshoot. I think I have PLENTY of reasons to be a little asshole at the moment IF THAT’S OKAY WITH YOU! Anyway, Spyder got a little overzealous with my feeds yesterday…after one session I had been feeling fine but then suddenly I had partially-digested Advocare spewing from every orifice in my head. I think it was even coming out of my ears. At least it landed all over Spyder. But then I started choking and it was hard to breath…but Spyder spun me around and did something to my back that helped make it all better. Then he and the Dame cleaned me up , then Spyder put me back on his chest and I fell asleep for a while. I felt oddly safe there…I hope I’m not getting to that whole capture/captive codependency state. The evening was strewn with more Spyder and Dame taking shifts sleeping with me in a separate part of the compound for a while so the other could rest…part of me feels a little bad as I’m not sure they’re ever in the same sleeping quarters any more. I said a little bad, not a lot bad, as I still haven’t found a way out of here and my Alimentum hasn’t given me my Wolverine blades yet.

I guess let’s see what tomorrow has in store…

 

“Fight Club 2: Lucian’s Loss”

Day #14: It’s been 2 weeks now since my abduction, and this morning fell into line with all of the rest of my shitty days here. MY F#@$ING BELLY BUTTON FELL OFF TODAY!!! I mean, REALLY?! REALLY!!! Started off about 12 days back with the chick trying to sharpen the head of my wang like a No. 2 pencil, then the repeated heel slashings at that “clinic” (Hippocratic Oath my ass, er FOOT!), and now my button falls off! I’m not even sure what it’s for, but surely I need it, RIGHT?! Is my belly going to fall off now?! Do I have to hold my belly from now on? What if I lean forward? And just how does something like this happen? Do I have leprosy?! Am I one “Mr Potatohead-ear-popping-off” move away from a one-way trip to the Hawaiian leper colony of Halaupapa? But I’m told I can’t wear sunscreen for another 5 1/2 months! This is some shit! The only potential silver-lining was that the nub that fell off as Spyder was changing my undergarments fell down into the lining of my new diaper and he couldn’t find it. Since my Alimentum-blades haven’t come in yet, I had planned on filing that thing down and use it as a shiv on Spyder next time we met; but the bastard found it later in the day and confiscated it…bollocks! So I guess here I shall continue to sit in my cell. What I can’t figure is this…Chuck Norris busted into no less than 3 MIA Vietnamese camps to rescue folks, and supposedly Liam Neeson “has a particular set of skills to find you” just as many number of times, yet neither one of these AARP card-wielding crackers has apparently been in my zip code! I was so miffed about the whole thing I just caved-in and ate/slept the rest of the day and most of the night, for a change.

I hope Spyder and his Dame get a bedsore from sleeping so well last night…

 

“I see a Lucian Moon A-risin’ “

Day #15: After having my bellybutton fall off yesterday, I felt obligated to do an appendage assessment this morning. Everything was going fine…until I realized I don’t know how many fingers, toes, noses, etc I’m SUPPOSED to have but at least everything appeared symmetrical. Then I started feeling cheated since numb-nuts ran off with my shriveled bellybutton stub; is there such a thing as a “Bellybutton Fairy”? Have I missed out on my CrackerJack Box prize? Sure, there’s the Fae of Tooth Decay out there shelling out dough for all the Billy’s out there that either over-indulge with the Kool-Aid Man or otherwise get a blow to the choppers, but most of those grow back. I’m thinking the payout for a permanent locking nut for your core should have been hefty enough that I could have bribed my way outta this joint. I’m still worried that thing is akin to the solitary screw in the backs of GI Joe figurines where if it goes, arms/legs/head go EVERYWHERE! If the Dame thinks I’m doing “tummy time” today, I’m shatting on the floor. I felt extra -moody today; Dame wanted me to nap, but I wasn’t having it. All day I fought with her; I think I hurt her feelings, but I don’t care how many boobs get thrown in your face the fear of your belly falling off and the rest of you crumbling like the end-game of Jenga is REAL! Spyder took over early-evening and once again spun his web around me making me his inchworm. After midnight, he had given me a particularly heafty feeding and was walking me around in the darkness of the compound when the bright-white glow cast upon my face through the window. I was mesmerized by it, and couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Spyder asked me if I liked the “Full Moon”, then proceeded to tell me how he thought I was a Lycanthrope since birth anyway (I guess I am particularly hairy, and the moon could explain my mood today). But my fangs and claws never came in, else I would have bitten the filthy bugger. I eventually just fell off to sleep.

Tomorrow I’m upping my dose of Alimentum..

 

“Sleepless in Seattle 2: Lucian’s Wrath”

Day #16: Spyder and his Dame appeared well-rested this morning…well, isn’t that Saints-Be-Praised. At least they did heed my request and started upping my amount of Alimentum. At this point, I’d take transforming into Sabretooth OR Wolverine. Spyder sent the Dame outside of the compound today, leaving just the two of us…I just knew the “enhanced interrogation techniques” were about to ensue. Just what would be on the docket?…bamboo shoots under the fingernails, ice water baths, pinning my eyelids open while playing repeated episodes of ”The View”, Justin Bieber box set. Who knows with Spyder’s diabolical mind. To my surprise, he took another tactic; aroma torture. Not the usual Nazi gas chamber colonic assault as he has previously displayed (seriously, dude! Try eating a salad!), but of something quite appealing. A base of hearty mesquite riding on bed of savory smoke, hints of melting butter and Cajun spices. He called it a “rotisserie”. I started smacking my lips, shaking my fists, patting my feet. And then he brought in a large stein of an amber-hued slightly chilled liquid of malted hops that he might as well named the Nectar of the Gods! Perhaps this day is looking up for me! And then I got a bottle nipple thrust in my face of the same watered-down protein supplement…well-played, my receding hairline albino friend. Well-played, indeed. Eff-it, I went to bed. But I brought my fury after the moon was high into the night sky. Not many a counted sheep to be had in THIS compound after my theatrics!

Let’s see how snarky you are tomorrow running on fumes…

 

“Throw Nanna from the Train”

Day #17: Awakened today with the Dame wishing Spyder a “Happy Father’s Day.”  Are you telling me this jackass has procreated?!  I feel for the poor kid that has to be his progeny.  To make matters worse, the Dame tortured me by fixing more bacon for breakfast.  This time it was some form of “Applewood”; surely something that smells that awesome must come from Mt Olympus itself.  Damn it, WHY DON’T I HAVE TEETH?!  Noticed another one of Spyder’s cronies was back in the compound today; they call her “Nanna”.  Nanna…what the hell kind of name is that?  Maybe it’s the female vernacular for “Bubba” or “Tiny”.  At least she seems nice to me all the time, and doesn’t follow in Spyder’s ways of incessantly stripping me down to my hoo-hah and wiping me off with cold rags.  Spyder sent Nanna and the Dame out together for a few hours today; again, I just knew it was so he could employ new creative tortures to further break my spirit.   But alas, to my surprise he really did no such thing.  Sure, he did his habitual shoving a bottle nipple in my face and engorge me until my eyeballs were floating (surely you can find some supplement that tastes like bacon, you dip-shit!), but really nothing bad happened after that.  In fact, he wrapped me up on his chest again and let me sleep there for a few hours, which was actually kinda pleasant.  Then in the evening I was subjected to yet another aromatic sucker-punch for my toothless head…they called it “barbequed pork shoulder.”  Apparently Nanna brought it…and none for me.  NOW I have a reason to have an issue with her.  After the giants had filled their gullets with all kinds of savory goodness (and none for me, in case I forgot to mention previously), the Dame tried to “rock” me to sleep…foolish lady.  I wasn’t having any of that.  Then Nanna decided to “help out” and apparently filled her subscription to “Booty Makeover Weekly”; I gave her a royal sampling of my defecation-dismay to show my “appreciation.”  Now the whole compound has seen my toosh; my belief in anything sacred has now been completely eroded.  At least Spyder left me alone for the remainder of the evening.

I hear we have another road trip to the “clinic” in the morning.  That should be interesting…

 

“That ain’t workin’, that’s the way Lucian do it…”

Day #18:  I was awakened by Spyder around 4am today…okay, maybe it was me that awakened him.  The usual early-morning antics of undergarment debauchery followed by the “honeymoon phase” of nutritional onslaught to put me back into a gluttonous food coma was regular as clockwork.  He really is becoming a one-trick pony.  It wasn’t until later when the Dame aroused me for our road trip to the clinic that I noticed that Spyder was now nowhere to be found…apparently he had to go back to “work” today.  That’s funny, as I didn’t know there was a significant need for a maniacal “Tiny Tim”-tormenting giant in today’s workforce.  Not that I’m complaining as with the Dame around I can do my best to start working my magic on her to set me free in his absence.  The road trip to the clinic was smooth as usual, though the giant there was running behind and I started getting SO HUNGRY…I “may” have made a little bit of a scene.  Again, in my defense my past 2 weeks has been pure Hell so pardon me if my resting-bitch-face goes from the 2-D to 4K experience.  My Alimentum skeleton must be taking effect as the clinic giant commented on how my strength is improving as well as my weight.  I had noticed…okay, the Dame had noticed, that my right eye had the “sleepies”; well hell-loooo! I SLEEP for 15+ hours a day, so isn’t that normal?!  According to the clinic giant….no.  And then he proceeded to order an ointment put into my eye twice a day.  These giants are really starting to kill me, and their obsessions with salves and ointments are ridiculous!  First it was ointment on the tip of my “Dangling Participle” with every diaper change.  Next it was the white cream coating to my testicular tea bags to treat the rash THEY gave me. Now they’re putting the stuff in my eye…IN MY EYE!  You know how much you can SEE after that stuff goes in?!…I’ll tell you, it’s a mere two things.  “Jack” and “shit”, THAT’S what you can see!  The rest of the day was fairly quiet again, at least.  She did more exercises with me today and was totally impressed with my ability to roll from my back onto my stomach and then back onto my back again…with that level of excitement from a trivial act, I bet she was one of those kids that played more with the box than the object inside.  Spyder finally came home in the afternoon…I hate to say that part of me missed him being gone.  I was surprised when he scooped me up when he got home and didn’t strip me down again (but, just wait for it as you know it’s coming eventually…).  Evening approached, and the routines continued.

Tomorrow I’m really going to work on getting out of this joint!  But tonight, I think I’ll just sleep a little bit…

 

“That ain’t workin’, that’s the way Lucian do it…”

Day #18:  I was awakened by Spyder around 4am today…okay, maybe it was me that awakened him.  The usual early-morning antics of undergarment debauchery followed by the “honeymoon phase” of nutritional onslaught to put me back into a gluttonous food coma was regular as clockwork.  He really is becoming a one-trick pony.  It wasn’t until later when the Dame aroused me for our road trip to the clinic that I noticed that Spyder was now nowhere to be found…apparently he had to go back to “work” today.  That’s funny, as I didn’t know there was a significant need for a maniacal “Tiny Tim”-tormenting giant in today’s workforce.  Not that I’m complaining as with the Dame around I can do my best to start working my magic on her to set me free in his absence.  The road trip to the clinic was smooth as usual, though the giant there was running behind and I started getting SO HUNGRY…I “may” have made a little bit of a scene.  Again, in my defense my past 2 weeks has been pure Hell so pardon me if my resting-bitch-face goes from the 2-D to 4K experience.  My Alimentum skeleton must be taking effect as the clinic giant commented on how my strength is improving as well as my weight.  I had noticed…okay, the Dame had noticed, that my right eye had the “sleepies”; well hell-loooo! I SLEEP for 15+ hours a day, so isn’t that normal?!  According to the clinic giant….no.  And then he proceeded to order an ointment put into my eye twice a day.  These giants are really starting to kill me, and their obsessions with salves and ointments are ridiculous!  First it was ointment on the tip of my “Dangling Participle” with every diaper change.  Next it was the white cream coating to my testicular tea bags to treat the rash THEY gave me. Now they’re putting the stuff in my eye…IN MY EYE!  You know how much you can SEE after that stuff goes in?!…I’ll tell you, it’s a mere two things.  “Jack” and “shit”, THAT’S what you can see!  The rest of the day was fairly quiet again, at least.  She did more exercises with me today and was totally impressed with my ability to roll from my back onto my stomach and then back onto my back again…with that level of excitement from a trivial act, I bet she was one of those kids that played more with the box than the object inside.  Spyder finally came home in the afternoon…I hate to say that part of me missed him being gone.  I was surprised when he scooped me up when he got home and didn’t strip me down again (but, just wait for it as you know it’s coming eventually…).  Evening approached, and the routines continued.

Tomorrow I’m really going to work on getting out of this joint!  But tonight, I think I’ll just sleep a little bit…

 

“Lucian’s been…THUNDERSTRUCK!”

Day #19: Today was a nice adventure. Spyder left the compound early again to go back to whatever spirit-slaying labor camp that should require his fiendish skills. The Dame continued the morning routine of “BB2F” (Boob and Bottle to the Face, for all you hipsters out there; I should really start a blog about all this crap…) which is always nice. But then she gave me more whanker-lube to the eye to “make it better.” This must be Spyder’s idea, because how ELSE could one think that prying my eye open and slathering it with a vision-obscuring dose of Lover’s Lube POSSIBLY be considered a good thing. Know how it feels to have good vision with one eye and complete opposite in the other? Lemme tell you, it sucks. Causes headaches, you have no depth perception and forces you to keep one eye closed and look like either a midget-version of Popeye or a missing-eyepatch version of the lost Minnie-Me from “Pirates of the Carribean.”  I poked myself in the eye 4 times today going after nipples; yeah, the ointment is making my eye AWESOME (Gold Stars for everyone! Jackasses…)!  Got another road trip today; not to the clinic, but instead to something called a “car wash.”  Somehow these giants have managed to have a thunderstorm in a building!  First it was all bright and sun-shiny…then deep base rumbles and water cascading down everywhere!  It was incredible!  I think she thought I was going to be scared by it, but actually it was kinda fun.  Didn’t last very long, however.  When we got home, a REAL thunderstorm broke loose outside, much bigger than the giants to rouse in their own building.  I couldn’t help it…I fell asleep.  It just put me into a trance.  By late afternoon Spyder came home again and scooped me up just as yesterday.  He looked fairly drained and I felt sorry for him, so I laid on his chest to try making him feel better….Lord, what is WRONG with me?!  Why am I trying to help my warden?!  To make matters worse, I got so calm there I fell asleep again.  That seems to be all I do these days…sleep, pee, poop, get my booty resurfaced, force-fed and then repeat the cycle.  I don’t even remember what my days consisted of before all this now.  Apparently the brainwashing techniques are working.  Nightfall had more of Spyder in for me…he sent the Dame off to bed early and he and Nanna alternated shifts during the evening.

Looks like my stay here is going to be more protracted than I hoped…

 

“Attack of the Pod People”

Day #20: The giants must have upset the Gods with their housed thunderstorm yesterday, because since that time REAL thunderstorms have been clamoring outside. I couldn’t help just laying in the floor looking out the window at the occasional flashes of light followed by a rolling roar from the skies. The rain came down so ferociously that it almost drowned-out the intermittent roar from above. I think the Dame was worried I might get frightened, but it was actually quite relaxing. Spyder was nowhere to be seen again today…I’m starting to like his “work” experience as it is keeping him away from the compound. I keep trying to charm the Dame such that she might eventually help with my escape, but I can’t tell that it’s working. She exercised me again today, and I played along…she was so excited again about me rolling over for a second day in a row. So excited, in fact, that she then put me into a zip-up straight jacket or “pod” as she called it (effing Spyder! I’m sure it was his “swaddling” actions that lead to this pee-wee sleeping-bag-gone-bad bullshit!) and then gave me another money-shot of “Something About Mary” to my eye again. First, I would like to file a complaint that my eye wasn’t jacked-up before all this business started and second, I don’t see (I mean literally, I can’t effing see with this lube in my eye) how this “antibiotic” is helping me! A part of me hoped the pod would be like a cocoon, and like the butterfly when I emerged I would be transformed; maybe even my Wolverine blades will have grown in! But I fell asleep in the pod and when I awakened the Dame had trimmed back all my nails. Bitch, I was so close to redemption. I guess I shouldn’t have played so nicely during “tummy time.” Later in the day a more-ominous sign arrived…I received my first piece of mail here. Damn, how long have I been here?! Dame said it was my “Social Security Number”; I’ve officially been objectified as a string of digits now. Fine, you want to treat me like a P.O.W.? All you’ll get outta me now is name, rank and number! The day I start receiving the envelopes stating “You’ve been selected for the final drawings of The Publisher’s Clearing House,” I’ll know that all hope is lost about me getting free from here and even they will have proclaimed me to be a “lifer.” Spyder finally returned late in the evening and for the most part left me alone until the middle of the night. Then, well you know how he is…

Tomorrow will make 3 weeks. How many more do I have in me…

 

“Indiana Lucian and the Compound of Doom”

Day #21: Three weeks now…for three weeks I’ve been stuck in this God-forsaken compound sitting in whoknowswhat corner of the globe without a shred of hope of escape. Despite the mass feedings of Alimentum a scheduled, I’ve yet to transform into either Wolverine or Sabretooth. Any sort of gains I was having in becoming Edward Scissorhands keeps getting shot-down by the Dame and her freaking tiny nail file. The more I think of it, the more it frightens me…how long have these two captains of Planet of the Asshats been doing this? How many before me have endured these walls? I mean, that nail file won’t fit them, so why otherwise would they have it? The button-up prison jumpers they stuff me into won’t fit them, so again why the need to have them? And since I’m the only one here…oh hell naw! I ain’t going out like that! I don’t know what Spyder’s end-game is going to be for me, but I’m not going to let him get there easily. Just gotta keep looking for my opportunity. Speaking of him, he was out again all day at work. I thought that was going to be a blessing, but the Dame and Nanna have conspired to pick up where he left off. She’s been getting tricky…two boobs in my face, I’m eating, life is good, just getting sleepy. Then WHAMMO!…my eye gets pried open and greased up with that damn ointment. I really need to buy an eye patch…I could pull it off! Samuel Jackson does it as Nick Fury! Darryl Hanna did it in “Kill Bill”! Tom Cruise did it in “The Valkyrie”…wait, that damn fool is Scientology crazy. Nevermind the patch after all. Another thunderstorm today…Huracan seems much displeased with my overlords, and they’re not even Mayan. I couldn’t even try to watch the storm today as I was too quickly entranced and lulled to sleep. Once I got up it was my wreck time in the San Quentin yard. The Dame gave me props on my rolling over skills…well whoopty-doo, Basil! The day was otherwise more of the same. I wanted to start a prison riot by chanting AT-TI-CA! AT-TI-CA!”…until I realized I can’t speak and a single dude trying to stage a coop without help ends up on the business end of a taser. When Spyder did come home, he and the Dame split to go grab something to eat…just glad it wasn’t me. Nanna was left in charge of me. She may be my ticket, as I see the way she looks at me. She’s a softy, gotta work her over, break her spirit. I tried to fuss as much as possible as I don’t think a giant with talons like hers could successfully operate a taser, but Spyder returned too quickly and before I knew it he had me in his clutches for the remainder of the night.

So I pissed on his stomach and puked on his chest; take that you albino bastard!

 

“Silence of the Lucian”

Day #22: My gastrointestinal onslaught to the Warden must have paid off, for he was gone out the door earlier than usual today. When my eyes spied open , there was Nanna holding me. I don’t think she’d eat me, but I can’t let my guard down around this camp. But now that I think about it, she was there every time through the night with another round of Alimentum. Maybe that’s her way of helping, trying to get my transformation to occur. Soon the Dame came in for my breast buffet and again life was good and ….awww, shit! The eye lube again!? I seriously need to find that tube and hide it. Hey, look everybody!…my eye is so much better now! I have the vision of an 85 year old with cataracts so BANGER JOB! I’m starting to see a routine around here now that Spyder is at work…feedings, undergarment exchanges, back to sleeping in my cell and the intermittent exercise time in “the yard.” Before much longer I’m going to get a prison tattoo and make someone my bitch just to pass the time; at least, AFTER someone else shows up here to become said-bitch and I learn to use these damn opposable thumbs of mine so that I can hash-out some fresh ink. When Spyder did get home, he walked around with me in his hands, talking all serious to me about life and stuff. The nepotism of this ape to think I’m going to take advice from someone that houses me against my will is mind-blowing. I just listened to him, looked at him, made the little funny faces to him that he likes to see…all the while I was storing up a little surprise for him. He suddenly stopped mid-sentence and sniffed my butt (Really?! WHY???)…BINGO! I was really proud of this one! Unfortunately, my antic backfired, because he followed it up with another voyeuristic stripping of me down to my birthday suit with cold rag shenanigans. I tried fighting him off, but he’s just too strong. All I kept hearing him say was “You’ve got this up over your balls! Damn it, son! You can’t have poo over your balls!”

I just let Nanna put me to bed after that. Chalking this day up in the “Loss” column…

 

“Guantanamo Lucian”

Day #23: They say that life after you are captured eats away at your soul, that you lose who you were. At first, you’re always on your guard for the next event wondering if it’s going to be your last. All your senses heightened, constantly scanning for the slightest hint of danger. But that becomes a sensory overload and your sharpness starts to dull. Complacency ebbs into your psyche ultimately leaves you vulnerable. That was brought into full fruition today. Spyder was once again off at his workplace be it pulling the wings off of flies, throwing empty 6-pack holder rings into the dolphin tanks at Sea World, or just merely cutting all the break lines to the Jazzy motorized scooters down at the local Wal-Mart…you just don’t know with him. The Dame and Nanna had the usual routine almost clockwork throughout the day, though I did get a little more time down in the “yard” today. I’ve decided that both the lion and the zebra hovering above my head while in the “yard” are conspiring against me, so if I get to where I can finally reach up and grab them (stupid useless opposable thumbs!) there will be hell to pay. Spyder wasn’t as late this time coming home, and surprised everyone with some sort of dinner buffet he called “pizza.” It was flat, round, covered in all various colors comprised of both meats and veggies alike. It smelled magnificent! OK, not bacon-magnificent but still pretty damn good. They filled their plates with the little wedge-shaped morsels…and I of course got a bottle nipple. I wish a pox on all of you and your kin! But that wasn’t the most dastardly feat of the night, not by a long-shot. I’d become used to their olfactory tortures of food as it was part of the daily routine here in the compound along with everything else. And as Spirit of Complacency laid her hand atop my shoulder in comfort, Spyder unleashed his most heinous scheme yet. I suppose it was retribution for my “Dookie with a Capital ‘D’”. It all started with a simple, harmless question: “Who’s ready for his first real bath?” Bath?…what’s a bath? You wanna know what it is?! It’s code for “Operation: Waterboarding”! Every piece of clothing removed from my torso leaving me just as nude as the day I was evicted over 3 weeks ago. Then he laid me in the plastic version of an Iron Maiden, and I swear he intentionally aimed that cold air duct straight at my whanker! He grasped my hands and held my arms like like a crucifix while the Dame squeezed a warm, soaked rag over my head and rained down on me. Again and again and again, I thought I’d surely drown. But he just laughed at me, the slimy bastard! Then she started scrubbing me with that rag, all over my arms, legs, tummy (damn it, woman! Don’t you remember I’ve lost my belly button?! Be gentle before something else falls off!), shoulders, back…and then my junk. MY JUNK, I SAY! Oh and where was Nanna during all of this?!…in the background with a freaking video camera! And I thought TMZ showed some horrific videos! Now I see where they get their footage. When he was finished washing away any speck of decency I had left, they covered me once more, and put me to bed.

Hopefully I can just stay in my cell all of tomorrow…

 

“The Taming of the Coo”

Day #24: I’m still trying to recover from last night’s “Jared from Subway Meets Hot Tub Time Machine” fiasco. How does one endure an act purposed to get you clean yet leaves you feeling dirty?! Spyder was out once again this morning; such a work ethic can only be for world domination. The Dame prepared again the usual routine…things truly be setting into a rhythm here. Even Nanna left the compound today. Guess I won’t be working her over towards my escape afterall. That made for a fairly uneventful day. While in the “yard” today getting my exercise, I couldn’t help but notice a strange device on the wall. I think it’s called “TV.” So many moving pictures, colors and sounds. And then I surprised myself… I “cooed”. I didn’t even know what a coo was , much less how to do it. But there I was cooing like some sort of barnyard animal. Perhaps captivity is finally starting to break me. That’s all I need…The Delta Force will break in to rescue me and here I’ll be a babbling idiot. Wait, Chuck Norris runs Delta Force and his ass hasn’t shown up yet so I’m still screwed. I also started finding a use for these damn opposable thumbs…I can’t grab shit with them, but I can certainly put them in my mouth. Seems to calm me down, as of I were some type of baby…stupid, I know. Spyder came in fairly late and bared witness to one of my cooing and thumb spells…that’s all I need is this asshole to know he’s winning. At least he left me alone the rest of the night.

I lay my head down trying not to think about what lies ahead tomorrow…

 

“Quoth the Lucian…Day 24”

This morn I awakened by it dark and dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I slumbered or more like napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“Must be Spyder,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

I remember it was the month of June when pedals of roses were in full bloom
And I frequented “tummy time” upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished Spyder and the rest of his crew would vacate this place, head somewhere new
To some distant land, some forgotten shore
Do this for me I do implore
And just leave me here for evermore.

And the squeaking of the floorboards, the sound of his shadow approaching
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors of the day before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I lay repeating
“’Tis must be Spyder entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Indeed, it must be he, entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”

Presently the stench inside my diaper grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Spyder,” said I, “truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I peeked between the slats of my crib;—
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I lay there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
What horrors could possibly lie in store worse than the bath time from days before
This I assured myself once more
Surely there could be nothing more.

Back in my cell I lay turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “that is something next to my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the sound machine and nothing more!”

Despite all my strength I started to shudder, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
Atop the dresser stepped a stately Panda of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, he climbed above my chamber door—
Perched upon a faux flowering tree branch just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this bicolored bear beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“What brings you here my furry companion and prompts you to abandon all hope of us both to slumber more.
Perhaps you’ve come to assist me, noble deeds spring forth intently
As you sit perched high above my door?”
Quoth the Panda “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly Care Bear as it simply plainly sat there,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that this tiny human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing a Panda above his chamber door—
Bear or beast upon the faux flowered tree branch above his chamber door,
Being a douchebag and replying “Nevermore.”

But the fuzzball, sitting lonely on the placid branch, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a grunt, or words did he studder—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Dear friend unfortunately I’m too sore from that wretched bath days before
Could you climb down here I do implore and spring me to freedom just once more?”
The bear replied “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “that reply is all you have in stock and store
On a short leash from your unmerciful master that Spyder is a dubious bastard
To send you here to mock me, break me…his little ‘Oreo Stevedore’
But you’ll find no stewardship or victim here for you I can simply ignore
So salter away, his little four-legged whore.”

Still the bear sat there beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
I broke my swaddle and rolled to face the bear, and branch and door;
Then, laying there with my diaper stinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this predacious herbivore—
What this low-eared, bob tailed, two-toned tree-climbing labrador
What role played he in this war?

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the jackass whose fur-rimmed eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I lay divining, with my head rolling back supining
Thank the Gods neck strength is not part of the Apgar score!
Instead mine bobs like Lindsay Lohan stumbling back from the liquor store.
His gaze I’m starting to abhor!

“You dare judge me and come to plunder after Spyder cast me asunder
By tormenting me for nearly two fortnights in a row!
Cast out naked and barely breathing I thought I should surely die from freezing
Yet I had no idea what nightmares were in store!
If you knew what tribulations I’ve already endured you could not ignore!”
Quoth the Panda “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if beast or devil!—
I shall tell you the dastardly deeds of your macabre mentor.
I’ve been roughed up and I’ve been manhandled as if I were some low-life vandal!
My feet have been slashed, my Alimentum blades worn,
My belly button fell off and lay on the floor
And even the bloody tip of my whanker has been shorn!”

“I’ve been dressed up then stripped back down, like a tithing plate I get passed around.
And then there was the nude photo session to be accounted for.
Tell this soul with spirit broken the point of the bath where they held me there soakin’!
And let’s not forget the eye lube whose vision still waits to be restored!
Please tell me all these things you cannot ignore?!”
Quoth the Panda “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, beast or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Dawn is coming and with it encroaching soon I shall have the Dame approaching
Bringing bottle and boob so need of you I have no more!
You’ll see one day exactly what Karma has in store!
Quoth the Panda “Nevermore.”

And the Panda, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the faux tree branch just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the baby monitor light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

OH YEAH?! WELL F@$# YOU, BEAR!!!
——————————————————————
*gasp, cough-cough*

Good lord, my head is killing me today. What was in the boob juice today? That’s it…tomorrow I’m only drinking from the bottle…

“The Hangover Part 4: Lucian’s Gone Wild”

Day #25:  Yesterday is a complete blur, but from the entry into my journal I apparently went “Cheech N Ching Meets Dead Poet’s Society.” And how have I never noticed that there is indeed a Panda perched above the door of the room containing my cell? I guess the “professionals” were wrong about my vision only good for about a foot. Well, that is until the giant neanderthals started slathering my eye with snake oil and magic salve. Today started out easily enough, yet still feeling the effects of the ‘shrooms that I somehow ingested yesterday. I swear if I had found an empty coke bag and a couple of dead hookers I would have sworn I had an out-of-body experience with Charlie Sheen. Spyder had departed from the compound again before breakfast and didn’t return until almost sundown.  The Dame and I filled out the day as what has become protocol, but something in me was just “off.”  I felt groggy all day, then suddenly I’d feel startled and JOLT awake, arms and legs flying outward as if I were falling. The Dame tried comforting me, but after enough startles you are just simply too scared to go to sleep. I just started getting cranky, throwing fits, screaming at everything. She did her best by feeding me, changing soiled linens, trying to console me. Maybe it was my soul that did conspire from the anguish one day prior to have this bad acid trip develop in an encore…damn it, KNOCK IT OFF! Anyway, I just felt more and more upset by everything. When Spyder finally returned to the compound, I was just screaming in my cell. He scooped me up and put me on his chest, started telling me about his day. I stopped crying, and listened….as I dug my new stubs of Alimentum fingernails into his bare chest (I’M BACK, BABY!). He tolerated it for a while, then just shoved a couple of bottles down my gullet (that’s right, come to Papa!) and put me in my cell.

Tomorrow might bring some hope and the chance of freedom for me yet…

 

“Godzilla vs Dookie”

Day #26: Today was a new day! For the first time in many I awakened with a feeling everything may not be as bleak as I thought. My fingernail katanas must have done a number on Spyder last night as he was absent from the compound earlier than usual. I’m pretty sure if I had said the incantation correctly…I thought it was “Kallíma-shaq-tee-dae”…I could have pulled out his heart. But, I still made him squeal so…WINNING!  However, the day spiraled down around mid-day. I wanted to sleep, but instead I just kept fighting it. I couldn’t help getting more and more cranky, and the fussier I became the more gassy I became. It started merely from above, but then also below, sometimes at the same time…hell, I think it was even coming out of my ears! The Dame tried making me feel better, gave me medicine and turned/patted me. I had one finally screaming fit late afternoon, and then it started…I pooed the poo that must be the biggest poo of all! I mean, look at me! I’m not that big! And not just once, or twice…THRICE! This can’t be normal. They must have changed the substance in my bottles. By the end of it all, I was drained. I just went to bed…for about 45 minutes at a time.

The giants looked displeased. I bet they look rough tomorrow…
“Sleepless in Seattle 2: Lucian’s aftermath”

Day #27: As expected, the giants looked rough this morning. Last night Spyder looked spent sometime after midnight; the Dame cared for me the rest of the night. Now it’s morning and it might as well be a casting call for “The Walking Dead.” Spyder was pounding energy drinks like he was training for a competition while the Dame did her best not to fall out of the furniture after she sat down. She looked somewhat precious while she was so sleepy. I kinda felt sorry for her. At one point I just kept looking at her face while she was talking to me…her eyelids drooping, her head bobbing. It wasn’t until the last “snip” I realized she had just clipped back all of my Alimentum finger katanas…BITCH! I was SO CLOSE again to redemption! Spyder returned that afternoon and had two new cronies come over…one in particular was some Filipino she-warrior named “Yolo”. I’m thinking she may be his mentor in torture techniques, so I’ve gotta be on the lookout for tiger pit traps, poison dart trip wires and other jungle warfare. The other half of the posse called herself “Amy”; I’m sensing a good cop/bad cop vibe from these two. Spyder and Dame vamoosed for a few hours leaving me with the Dragon Lady. I kept trying to sleep, and she kept blowing in my face…I mean, REALLY?! As highly-skilled in the devices of pain to make a stone statue speak the gospel, and the best you can come up with is blowing in my face?! I guess I shouldn’t press my luck. These two were just as into the stripping of my derriere as every other freaking giant around here. Damn sickos! To make matters worse, I think I scared them with my masculinity and they were trying to cover me up in a hurry as when Spyder changed me later that evening it was halfway off my butt, my straps were uneven and my right scrotum was partially exposed. If this causes me to have Spyder using that paste on my nuts again then I’m going Rambo on the little PF Chang next time I see her! When Spyder and Dame did return, they reaked of gunpowder and chimichangas…. NOOOOOO! He CAN’T be Deadpool! Nope, I’m not buying it, I REFUSE to believe it! Besides, as much as I loathe Spyder I can’t say he looks like an avocado that had sex with an older avocado. But maybe he knows Deadpool?! Scary thought! Anyway, the Vietnamese Vixen departed, Spyder sent the Dame to bed and he fed me another bottle…apparently we both passed-out in a chair together, then he turned in for the evening.

The giants keep saying tomorrow is a special day. Lord knows what that means…

 

“28 Days Later II: The Lucian Virus Mutation”

Day #28: Four weeks. I’ve successfully survived my capitivity in this camp now for 4 weeks. While there have been a few instances where I thought they were actually trying to kill me, by far the more prevalent tactics have been measures to humiliate and break my spirit. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to their voyeuristic tendencies regarding my jubblies, and that bathing experience was something out the bowels of Hell. The boob feedings have been a plus, so two-useless opposable thumbs-up on that part! Yet I’m losing hope that my Alimentum skeleton will ever take hold. Both Spyder and the Dame came in and wished me “Happy One-Month Birthday!” Is this a trick? Am I getting a party? Can I have bacon for my birthday? Alas, as the day progressed I never saw balloons, no cake to be had, no wafting bacon aroma in the air…just a little larger container of Alimentum and a cold wet rag up the crack of my ass. Oh, and by the way…these fools came in wishing me “Happy One-Month” blah-blah-blah. But I’ve been here 28 days…and while carrying me around today the Dame changed the calendar on the compound wall from June (which said THIRTY days) to July (which said THIRTY-ONE days). You jack-waggons really don’t have any idea what you’re doing, do you?! I mean, you cant’t even decide on a standard length ofor a month! I can’t believe I’m still a prisoner here, because surely these brainiacs cannot be that formidable of an opponent for Seal Team Six or equivalent to spring me free!

I’m felt that Angel of Complacency creeping in again. I just went to my cell for the rest of the night. Maybe tomorrow…