From:    brendan.dillon@xx.xxxx.xxx 
Date:    Mon Jul 26, 2004 7:24 pm 
Subject: The Manchurian Elf


NOTICE: This segment is a follow-up to the Norman's Rebellion series. If you
missed those stories, you can find them here:

http://www.holyducttape.com/oli/rebellion.html

*     *     *

A small metal box sat on a cart, pushed by a hospital orderly and escorted by
two Oligarchy Marshals. They reached the offices of Doctor Thomas Ranier,
director of Elf Medicine at Wake Medical Center.

"Just wheel him next to the bed," Dr. Ranier said without turning. He stood with
his back to the door, arranging his tiny instruments. Though no earthly doctor
was fully trained on elf anatomy, Ranier was the most experienced. He was the
first human to treat this particular patient, at the close of the Canadian War.

The doctor carried a tray to a bedside table. "You can bring him out now," he
said.

One of the Marshals punched a few keys on the box, expanding the deostatic field
to encompass the room, to prevent the prisoner from teleporting out of custody.
He unlocked the box, picked up Norman the Elf, and placed him on the bed.

"All right, Mr. Norman, what's ailing you?" asked the doctor.

"An infinite number of pink monkeys are tunneling in and out of my nose. They're
trying to escape from Gozer. But Zuul will ensure that they will not get far.
Ohhhhh...."

Dr. Ranier began scribbling notes. "Patient has finally gone bonkers," he wrote.

"Okay, I'm going to draw some blood," he told Norman. "I want to run some tests
for controlled substances. Now, you're going to feel a slight prick."

"OWWW!" the elf screamed as Ranier inserted a needle into his arm. "The power of
Christ compels you to stop being a slight prick! Gragh!"

"Okay, I think I have what I need. Thank you, Norman. I'll have the results for
you shortly."

*     *     *

Brendan, Wayland, and Jason were just finishing a meeting when the conference
room phone rang. "Co-Rulers," said Brendan as he picked it up.

"Sir, we just got a call from Norman the Elf's physician at Wake Med. He says
he's got something that warrants your attention."

Brendan jotted down the room number. "We'll be there shortly," he said. After
replacing the phone, he glanced at the others. "Care to visit an old friend at
the hospital?"

"Sure," said Wayland. "Let's bring him a pizza."

As they walked out of Enloe, they began discussing possible punishments for
Norman for staging his rebellion. "Maybe we can convince Delilah to revoke his
deification. Make him a mortal, with no powers," Jason suggested.

"I dunno, I'm kind of leaning towards Bevin's proposal," Brendan said. "We
sentence him to purchase all of Bevin's feminine products until the end of
time."

"Geez, I'm not sure which one is worse," said Wayland.

*     *     *

The Co-Rulers of the World arrived at Dr. Ranier's office to find Norman asleep,
and connected to a strange device by way of an array of tubes. "What in
Delilah's name happened to him?" Brendan asked, as he set a pizza from Lilly's
on the counter.

"Well, he came in here with classic symptoms of severe abuse of hallucinogenic
drugs, just short of overdose. So I did some blood work, and instead of some
kind of elven LSD, like I expected, I found this." He handed them a vial of
thick red liquid.

"Wow," said Jason between pizza bites. "There's blood in his bloodstream.
Imagine that."

"Not exactly," the doctor replied. "Observe."

He opened the vial and poured it into a bowl of water. Swishing it around with
his fingers, the substance produced soap suds. He then dropped a used scalpel
into the bowl, scrubbed it a bit and then rinsed it.

"Dish soap?" Wayland asked.

"Specifically, red Palmolive soap."

"I thought that stuff was poison to him," Jason said.

"Only the blue kind," Ranier explained. "You see, it's kind of like kryptonite.
Green kryptonite is deadly to Superman, but other colors have different effects.
In Norman's case, red Palmolive soap makes him very susceptible to suggestion.
And after long periods of exposure, it will cause the same type of
hallucinogenic and psychotic effects he was exhibiting this morning.
Fortunately, he should return to normal once it's been cleaned out of his
system. I've got him on dialysis right now."

"How did it get there in the first place?" Brendan asked.

"Well, at some point, someone must have injected him with it, hoping to take
advantage of its mind-control effects."

"So if he was under mind control... are you saying that his entire rebellion was
someone else's plan?"

"It's very likely. If not the method, than at least the final goal."

"Unnhh... guys?" said Norman, waking slowly.

"Norman! How do you feel?" asked Wayland.

"Better, I guess. A little weird."

"Here, eat some of this pizza," Wayland said, handing Norman a tiny slice.

"His system in nearly cleared," said Dr. Ranier. "He should be almost back to
normal, though there will be some aftereffects."

"I've got an idea," Norman said, "for how I can get my job back. See, I'll go
back in time and get a couple of humpback whales. Then I'll bring them to the
present, where whales are extinct, and save the world from a space probe that's
trying to contact them. Then you can just bust me to Captain or something."

"Umm..." Jason hesitated.

"Of course, first we'd have to build a probe capable of vaporizing all the
earth's oceans. Oh, and wipe out all the whales in the present."

"I think some people may object to that," said Wayland.

"Who cares about them? Goddamned hippie tree-huggers."

"I have a better idea," Jason suggested. "Why don't we find out who did this to
you?"

"Oh, I can tell you that. It was Sam Walton."

"The Wal-Mart guy? Isn't he dead?"

"Not dead. Undead. He's been assembling a soulless army of undead soldiers for
decades, an invasion force to subjugate the living. They hide in the stockrooms
of every Wal-Mart and Sam's Club in the world."

Brendan looked sideways at Norman. "Doc, are you sure he's clean?"

"He's had soap circulating in him for months. You bet he's clean."

"Hey!" Jason exclaimed. "No one's allowed to make worse puns than me. Is Norman
lucid or not?"

"As much as he normally is."

"I'm telling the truth," Norman said. "Why do you think their parking lots are
so big? They're landing strips for Sam Walton's air force. And you can't have
not noticed how they drive out smaller businesses wherever a Wal-Mart exists? Or
how they've been sneakily expanding worldwide, even in less developed regions?"

"So," Wayland began, "Sam Walton himself injected you with red Palmolive soap so
that you would take over the world for him, then hand it over to his undead
army? Is that what you want us to believe?"

"Yes. He was planning to schedule the handover for just after the theatrical
release of the 'Manchurian Candidate' remake. He always had a weird sense of
humor."

"I'll get in touch with Matt, and have him look into this," Wayland said, and
walked out.

Brendan sighed. "Well, Norman, I guess this puts you in the clear. You can go
back to work at the OCB as soon as you feel up to it. But you'll understand if
we keep an eye on you for a while."

*     *     *

The following night, the Co-Rulers of the World held a staff meeting at Enloe.
Wayland began the meeting with a report on the potential Wal-Mart menace.

"I'm afraid that Matt hasn't been able to find a single shred of evidence that
Sam Walton is building an army of the undead," Wayland stated. "Which pretty
much confirms that everything Norman told us is true."

"I blame myself," said Brendan. "The warning signs have been there for years."

"Well, at least now we know about it, and can start preparing," said Jason. "I
suggest that we begin placing operatives in Wal-Mart and Sam's Club stores. They
can report to the OCB for reconnaissance and intelligence missions, until we have
more specific jobs for them."

"Good idea," Wayland replied. "I'll get OCB right on it. What's the next order
of business?"

"That's it for tonight," Brendan said.

"Cool. Meeting adjourned."

THE END

--
Brendan, the Duct Tape Avenger,  | brendan.dillon@xx.xxxx.xxx
GPG; 1SG, KPS OPC; SC, HQ, SURLI | http://www.holyducttape.com

"You've seen generals inspecting troops before. Just walk slow,
look dumb and act stupid." -Major Reisman, "The Dirty Dozen"