By Bob Senitram
Non-stop nonsense for your reading pleasure…
Previously, Dr. Benson heard about the warden’s deal with the Senator and sent Bob to meet with Dr. Hector.
Bob shows up at Hector’s prison, flashes his FBI badge and tells the guards he just spoke with the warden and was asked to follow up. He didn’t have permission, he made that up…
“Good evening, Agent Senitram.”
“Hello, Doctor.”
“Did Benson send you? One last attempt for that vital clue? Too bad about poor Jennifer, ticktock, ticktock…”
“I know what you’re hinting at.” Bob replies, “But a new clock wasn’t part of the deal.”
“No, that wasn’t…”
“And your jokes, they’re getting worse and worse. Jack Meoff, really?”
“Oh, Bob, your problem is you need to get more fun out of life.”
“I’m just here to find out who Hopalong is. There was some truth in what you told me in Houston. Wasn’t there?”
“I’ve read the case files, have you?”
“Sure, well, I read the footnotes.”
“There are no footnotes.”
“Really? There was one?”
“Perhaps you read the appendix?’
“Ah yes, an appendix removal. That would explain a lot. The murders are actually botched appendectomies…it’s all coming together….”
“No, there’s no appendix…”
“That’s crazy. I had my appendix removed years ago. There’s your proof Dr. Hector!” Bob had no idea where he was going with this.
“Everything you need to know is in these pages.” Dr. Hector pats the pages of the case files, then asks, “What does this man you seek do?”
“He works at Jack in the Box, no wait, Chicken Delight!”
“Besides that.”
“You mean hobbies? I dunno.”
“No, why is the FBI looking for him.”
“Oh, I know this…he eats people.”
“No, that’s me.”
“Oh, right.”
“Try again, agent.”
“He kills people, but he doesn’t eat them…that’s your job.”
“What kind of people does he kill?”
“Dead ones?”
“Try again.”
“Uuuuummmmmm, he kills womens?”
“What kind of women, Bob?”
“I dunno, fat bottom girls?”
“What?! No. He kills women with psychological issues.”
“Wouldn’t that pretty much be any womans?”
“Oh, that’s just wrong! Damn.” That response made Hector go “old school.” Gaining his composer he continues, “Tell me, why does he kill them?”
“Because once he catches them he doesn’t know what to do next. Just like when I was in kindergarden, I used to chase Stephen Johnson home every day. He lived down the street from me. I have no idea how it all got started, but I thought we were just playing a chasing game, but it turns out he was afraid of me and he ran home every day being terrorized by me…TERRORIZED! I had no idea he was running in fear, I just thought it was a game. Then one day I caught him. I didn’t know what to do next! Next thing I know…”
“Oh my god, shut up!” Hector lost his patience for a moment. “Hopalong is trying to help his future victims, to cure them. I imagine he fails and this is how he ends his little experiment.”
“Sure, ya. Can’t you just tell me…”
“Quid pro quo. Why did you leave the ranch?”
“Can’t you just tell me who he is already?” Bob asks.
“It’s my turn, that was the agreement. Why did you leave that ranch?”
“Leaving is what you do when you run away.”
“Why? Why did you run away. What set you off?”
“It was night, I heard a strange noise. I just left.”
“What was it?”
“Squealing.”
“What kind of squealing? Was it your foster parents?”
“Eeeuuuwww, gross. No, it was nothing like that.”
“What did you do next?”
“I went outside, to the barn where they kept the pigs…”
“…I had to see.”
“And what did you see?”
“They were being slaughtered.”
“They say a grown pig has the intelligence of a two year old. And there was your guardian, killing them without mercy. Did it make your heart ache, seeing these children scream as they were being murdered?”
“Aw, hell no. Have you even tasted bacon? I ran away because I figured I’d never get a good nights sleep in that place.”
Disappointed, the Dr. pressed on, “You still wake up at night and hear the squealing, don’t you?”
“Sometimes, but only if I’m hungry.”
“And you think if you save poor Jennifer, you could silence those screams?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Jennifer’s not a pig.” Bob answers.
“But you want the screaming to stop…”
“Naw, I like the squealing. Especially when I’m eating bacon…kinda makes me want more.”
Hector suddenly sits down. “You need professional help.”
Bob shrugs. “Yeah, my boss at FBI mentioned that. So did the trainer, and a few cadets. Oh yeah, and my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Clute…”
“Ok, I get the idea…”
Two guards entered, but I forgot if it was stage right or stage left.
“It’s your turn, Doctor. Squid go pro, tell me his name!” Bob insists.
A guard takes Bob by the arm, “You know that’s not the expression.”
“Forgetting something?” Dr. Hector said holding the case files.
Bob shakes loose from the guard and snatches the files.
Hector states confidently, “Everything you need is in those pages. Goodbye Bob, good luck saving poor Jennifer, ticktock…”
“I told you, no clock!” Bob says as he’s escorted out, exit stage right…definitely stage right.
Dr. Hector stands and just stares at he door as it closes.
Another guard looks at him. “You okay, Doctor?”
Hector stares at the door for another beat.
“…I’ve spent years manipulating the darkest minds this world had to offer.”
“And?”
“I’m not convinced that man has one.”
AND NOW YOU KNOW!!!!
Any similarities to anything is coincidental…
Song in my head:
COMING NEXT: The great escape!
Start From the Beginning, Part 1…
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