Chapter 25: The calm before the storm.

Morty walked confidently from the podium when the crowd had left. He had a small pile of index cards with his speech that he had put in his pocket.

 

Hypnosis had served him well, he had seen in his visions the power that comes with being able to influence and manipulate humans. He had seen the undercurrent of evil in the world throughout the ages, and learned to be unsuggestable.

 

Morty’s saving grace, perhaps, was his insistence on doing right, however, his brains malleability and his episodes of seizures when faced with pure evil had left his brain scrambled in a convoluted series of rationalizations that had justified the use of his powers to sell books. Morty really didnt know much about real estate, except that he could hypnotize people and buy and sell properties for exhorbitant profits. He really wasnt much of a writer, either. Most of his “book” was just filler that he had written over the course of a very drunken month while trying to sort out his seizures and hallucinations.

 

The book was mostly a set of top 10 lists full of common sense, and a few anecdotes of fictional characters. His whole rationale was to make money, but he learned quickly not to bankrupt his subjects, and kept a small enough clientele that he had been able to afford modest dividends in his shady transactions.

 

In doing this, he managed to keep a low profile, but still keep accruing revenue. Each transaction that involved a party brought a new member into his fold. He kept them hypnotized only in the sense that they would never consider an avenue of self-help or real estate without consulting him, and he returned enough of a margin that no one ever questioned him.

 

So he had done right, by his standards. He had a large picture of jesus in the window, for reasons that he could not remember, but he thought was right. Morty was not a religious man, and tended to blaspheme and profane extensively when not in public. He never had a spiritual thought, slammed the door on missionaries on the weekends, and once puked blood in the image of satan.

 

Really, it was for the window.

 

Aside from that, he had mostly capitalized the profits independently of his personal income, and kept his own pay substantially higher than his old string of jobs, but only to make a living wage. That afforded an apartment with a larger window to accommodate his picture of Jesus.

 

He had come to have a grudging acceptance of Alouicious, but never named him, he communicated with whistles, as Morty loved a whistlin’. Thats why I named him Alouicious, its a pretty fucking rad name, if you think about it. He had accepted him as an unorthodox and misunderstood protector. He tried a few times to call him inside from the cold, but the dog just stayed, watching patiently until he closed the door and then made his rounds.

 

And after all that, he was still in Courage Falls, Minnesota. His real estate dealings alone had brought a few dozen people into the town, and it had progress nicely, but the after hours was still dark. The increase in growth had proportionally increased the amount of vagrants, transients, homeless kids, crackheads, and everything else. Surprisingly, the crime rate stayed low. The alleys were still filthy, and vermin were always heard scurrying about just out of view.

 

And that is the town that Morty walked out to, on a brisk spring evening. His staff cleaned up behind him and he made his way down the familiar streets. The sun was just setting and the streets were filled with late commuters, and the seasonal bums.

 

Occasionally, one of his self help real estate hypnosis slaves would pass in a car, with a friendly honk.

 

He gave a friendly whistle, and heard a low growl from the shadows. Alouicious preferred to stay unseen. Especially when the sun was out.

 

Morty considered it his civic duty to keep the tribes of the insane from ruining the nice main street, so he would approach them, quickly hypnotize them (crackheads and lunatics are surprisingly open to suggestion), and implore them to seek shelter at one of the many churches. So, as he walked through the small clusters and individuals scattered along the way, they would quickly scurry off to the back streets and in to the missions.

 

And so it was, this day like any other, Morty tread the same paths he had, quietly exercising his skills, cleaning up the community for the nice people, and accepting the unyielding, brutal love of an angry, mangy dog.

5 Responses

  1. Amosssportsquarter2620$anchor$basketball Betting,final Four,final Four Betting,final Four Gambling,final Four Sports Book,final Four Sportsbook,march Madness,march Madness Betting,march Madness Gambling,march Madness Sports Book,march Madness Sportsb…

    Amosssportsquarter2620$anchor$basketball Betting,final Four,final Four Betting,final Four Gambling,final Four Sports Book,final Four Sportsbook,march Madness,march Madness Betting,march Madness Gambling,march Madness Sports Book,march Madness Sportsboo…

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  2. March Madness…

    March Madness…

    March Madness - March 16th, 2008 at 4:22 pm
  3. Branding…

    Branding…

    Branding - March 18th, 2008 at 9:49 pm
  4. Beach…

    Beach…

    Beach - March 24th, 2008 at 7:36 pm
  5. rocket french…

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    rocket french - March 28th, 2008 at 7:05 am

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