Dianetics Another Day: Chapter 7
Dianetics Another Day
Chapter 7: Practically Clear
Shiouji's nightmares melded seamlessly into waking reality, and as he opened his eyes to the cold metal that his mother pressed up against his nose, could he truly be blamed for shrieking like a little girl and rolling out of his computer chair. Miwa stood over him, holding her weapon at the length of her arm, her wide grin gleaming with malice. "Go~jyo~cha~n~"
"DON'T KILL ME!" he cried, covering his face.
Miwa laughed, tossing and catching her metal spatula. "Did you have a bad dream, darling? Get up! We're going to have a family breakfast!"
"A... what?" Shiouji didn't move. He was in no hurry to place himself within the danger zone of the maternal bosom.
"Freshen up a little, sweetie. I'll see you at the table in a few minutes." Her sunshiney smile broadened. "Attendance is mandatory~♥"
As soon as she was gone, Shiouji picked himself up, along with what little remained of his dignity, and brushed himself off. He checked his computer to see whether he had sleep-geniused up a miraculous solution to his problems; he had not. At this point, there was little more to do than clean up and shuffle out to breakfast. After all, attendance was mandatory.
He walked in to where his mother was arranging Iwata's head with a bowl of flowers, and let out a little groan as he took his seat. "Honestly, Mother, on the kitchen table?"
"Now, now. How do you think poor Norikuni feels? He is officially dead, after all. We're the only family he has." She ruffled his hair. "Are you comfortable, honey?"
"Yes, Mommy~" Iwata replied.
"'Mommy'?" Shiouji shot him a horrified look.
"Don't be jealous, Gojyou-chan," his mother chided. "Mommy still loves you best of all~" She slid in next to him, wrapping her arms around him.
"MOTHER, I THOUGHT YOU WERE MAKING BREAKFAST."
"Honestly, when have you ever known me to make breakfast?" Snuggling a little closer, Miwa tapped his nose with the spatula. "I'm sure Umi will wake up sooner or later!"
"I'LL WAKE HER," he yelped. Once he managed to wriggle out of her grasp, he made a frantic dash for Umi's door. Once there, he gave himself a moment to regain his composure, and knocked. "Umi, are you--"
"I'M SORRY!" The door flew open, smashing into his face and knocking him flat onto his back. Umi stepped out in her German maid costume (French maid once again unavailable), spiked heel digging directly into his kidney. "I didn't mean to be late making breakfast but I couldn't decide what to wear and then I did decide what to wear but I had trouble with all the straps so Ms. Excel helped me and... Professor? Where'd you go?"
Shiouji moaned loudly the moment that noises stopped coming out of Umi's mouth, hoping desperately that she might hear him and move. And it worked, though he had been too preoccupied with the spasms of pain to actually listen to her apology, or notice the second pair of feet that stepped so mercifully over him.
If he'd had any idea of the three-ring breakfast he'd be walking in on, he probably would have just stayed on the floor. Umi was dropping things everywhere, partially due to Miwa's molestation, but mostly due to being Umi. Iwata's head continued to serve as a macabre centerpiece, cheering on both parties. His unwelcome houseguest sat at the center of things, unphased, concentrating only on buttering up a piece of toast.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "What is she doing here?"
Miwa tsked. "It's all right for you to have an overnight guest every now and then, sweetie."
"She was my overnight guest, Au--er, Miwa!" Umi squeaked.
"My little Umi-chan is growing up~" Miwa's eyes glinted malevolently. "Do you know what it means when two women make love, Gojyou?"
"I don't want to know."
Miwa's glasses glinted dramatically, and she pointed at her son in stark accusation. "It could only mean they are longing for the touch of a man! Please, share your love with them!"
"Professor, share some of your luck with me," Iwata replied in a sing-songy voice.
"Hey," said Excel, poking at his head with the butter knife. "What's with the creepy animatronics?"
"Watch where you're jabbing that thing!" Iwata complained, while the Shiouji family exchanged awkward looks.
"The professor studies robotics," Umi blurted, which wouldn't have been good enough excuse even for Excel, had she cared.
She didn't care. "Can I have more toast?"
Umi nodded. "I'll get you some eggs, too!"
"You know what would make our little breakfast even more perfect?" Miwa chirped. "Television." She flicked on the TV, flipping through channels until one caught her eye. "Aha! It's my favorite - Survivor: Hinamizawa!"
"Breaking news--" broke into the show.
"Boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
But the next channel showed a similar report. "--has landed in America, on the lawn of the Whi--"
"Boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
"--clared a message of peace, after dispatching most of the United States Air Fo--"
"It's as though they can't hear me boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
"--rrestrial being appears to be humanoid in form, as you can see from this foota--"
"Let's watch a DVD!" Miwa turned the TV off.
"Wait!" cried Excel. She couldn't quite place it, but something had flashed across the screen in that last second, something that had caught her eye. Wrestling the remote away from the hands that had groped so many, she turned the television back on.
It became immediately evident to everyone what she had seen - it was her own face.
"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Umi. "Is Ms. Excel an actress?" But Excel was too glued to the screen to answer.
They listened to the speech in progress. "--has been watching over this world for some time, and we have judged it to be corrupt. For a complete list of the corruptions found in this world, please visit ideologicalorganizationacross.or.jp for a copy of our publicly-distributed manifesto. Yes, people of Earth, your planet is corrupt, and we are the only ones capable of correcting it. I know this will be a period of adjustment for everyone, but it is in your own best interests to cooperate. No one desires unnecessary bloodshed.
"Again, we are ACROSS, the elite organization striving for the realization of the ideological ideal under the guidance and wisdom of Lord Il Palazzo. This is Excel, signing out."
The news report cut back to the reporter, who continued to describe the situation, but in the Shiouji house, all eyes were on Excel.
She said nothing. She was more shocked than anyone.
The shrill ring of a telephone broke into the moment, and Umi scampered off to answer it. "Professor! It's for you!"
Shiouji took it with the utmost of reluctance. "Hello, I'm somewhat busy--"
"WE HAVE A CODE RED!" Kabapu's voice was so loud it echoed through the room.
"Doctor, can this possibly wait five minutes--"
"ARE YOU NOT AWARE OF WHAT A 'CODE RED' IS?"
While he was distracted, Miwa took the opportunity to move in on Excel. "So the good Doctor gave you the Thetanator. What a fortunate girl you are!"
Excel was too busy being uncomfortable under her scrutiny to point out that she had no possible way of knowing that. "You want it?"
"Oh, I couldn't. I had my fun with it when my husband designed it. It belongs to you now... though I'd be more than happy to show you how to use it, if you want~"
"I don't."
"Are you certain? Il Palazzo isn't a man who tolerates weaknesses. You'll have to be a lot stronger if you want to win his favor."
Excel froze. Once it had been vocalized, she had no way of denying it.
"Then it's a date! Bring your new toy, and I'll meet you out back."
Excel knew she shouldn't follow. She had to clear up this whole mess with Lord Il Palazzo ASAP, and clearly this shady woman couldn't be trusted. And yet... somehow, she knew that the Thetanator was a powerful weapon. It might come in handy. Besides that, she needed to prove that she was worthy of being Lord Il Palazzo's #2... not to this big-busted bimbo, but to herself.
She headed out back, and the training began.
"The Thetanator is a clever tool," said Miwa, batonning it lazily, "because it exists not on a physical level, but the thetan level; the spiritual level, in layman's terms. That is to say, if you use it to hit something-" She swung it at a rock, which exploded on impact, "-it attacks not the thing, but the meaning of the thing. It's very Mystic Eyes of Death Perception like that."
"Boy," said Excel, "am I sure glad I've been lugging that thing around until now."
"Oh, that's much harder to do to people." Miwa grinned. "Unless you're specifically aiming to kill, using this on a human will only have positive effects. Foreign thetans are the cause of all the anguish and sorrow in the world, after all. The souls of dead aliens don't understand that it's harmful for them to touch us; they're simply drawn to our life force, like poltergeists, succubi, or senior citizens."
"Wow," said Excel, "that sure does explain the existence of suffering far better than the plethora of social, political, monetary, physical, chemical, genetic, and environmental factors which seemed to contribute to the human condition so convincingly before."
Miwa waggled a finger. "It's no sillier than a six-armed elephant or nailing some poor man to a tree... or Lord Il Palazzo," she added wickedly.
Excel took a swing, but Miwa moved quickly, drawing the Thetanator to block her blow. No contact was made; Excel's fist stopped inches away and hung, frozen midair, until Miwa flicked her wrist. Excel's entire body flew across the back yard, skidding along the ground.
"It controls disembodied thetans as well," Miwa chirped. "It's quite cruel, actually."
Excel picked herself up, wiping blood and grass from her lip. Miwa tossed the Thetanator at her. She caught it, fumbled, and caught it again.
"So, to review: You can manipulate the air, obliterate inanimate objects, and heal the souls of living things. All you have to do is want it to work. You can practice on me, if you like. I'm an OT 16, but I get so behind on my auditing. Frankly, I feel sorry for the poor little thetans... we all just want to touch someone, don't we?"
"Strangely enough, I don't want to heal your soul even a little."
"Fair enough. Why don't you try your own? Think how much better you'll feel."
Excel peered at the baton suspiciously. "Not to spew dated material, but is this healing Kevorkian in nature?"
"It responds to the user's wishes, so if you don't want to hurt yourself, you won't hurt yourself. Try saying, 'Begone, evil thetans,' and giving yourself a little tap on the head. Go on!" Miwa clapped encouragingly.
Excel allowed herself one last moment of hesitation before diving into the situation head-first. "BEGONE, EVIL THETANS!" she cried, and bopped herself over the head. "OW!"
Miwa's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Well?"
"Well nothing," she growled sullenly. "You tricked me into whacking myself over the head."
"You don't feel any different?"
"Yeah, actually, there's this one spot on my noggin..."
"I did tell you to 'tap', but hmm... that is strange. Let me check on something." She whipped out a pair of what appeared to be night vision goggles, pulling off her glasses and strapping them to her head.
"I submit that those do nothing," said Excel, but was ignored.
"Oh, you are an interesting girl... most people are swamped with thetans, but you're completely clean."
"Wasn't that the point?"
"Not like this. Could it be that you're already..." Removing the goggles and replacing her glasses once more, she tapped her toe in thought. "I'll put it this way - there is no negative energy within a good meter of you. If you're able to banish it like that, it means two things. One, that whatever conflicts you may have are completely internalized; and two, that your power is tremendous. You're practically Clear. In Scientology terms, that means that you should be exhibiting massive amounts of psychic ability... but as anyone can see, you're not."
Excel's patience with this cultist nonsense was rapidly thinning. "This is just a guess, but could it be that you're completely deranged?"
Miwa laughed. "Whether I am or not, this is no fluke. You have these powers, even if you can only use them unconsciously. I'll bet you heal quickly, Excel-chan. I'll bet there are a lot of coincidences in your life that you just can't--"
"EXCEL-CHAN IS LEAVING NOW," she announced. "THIS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH MUMBO JUMBO FOR ONE DAY, PLEASE AND THANK YOU."
Miwa called after her even as she tromped away. "All you've managed to do is seal yourself off from the world. Why is that, Excel-chan? What are you hiding from~?"
"NOT SCREWBALLS, OBVIOUSLY!" she snapped, and was gone.
Chapter 7: Practically Clear
Shiouji's nightmares melded seamlessly into waking reality, and as he opened his eyes to the cold metal that his mother pressed up against his nose, could he truly be blamed for shrieking like a little girl and rolling out of his computer chair. Miwa stood over him, holding her weapon at the length of her arm, her wide grin gleaming with malice. "Go~jyo~cha~n~"
"DON'T KILL ME!" he cried, covering his face.
Miwa laughed, tossing and catching her metal spatula. "Did you have a bad dream, darling? Get up! We're going to have a family breakfast!"
"A... what?" Shiouji didn't move. He was in no hurry to place himself within the danger zone of the maternal bosom.
"Freshen up a little, sweetie. I'll see you at the table in a few minutes." Her sunshiney smile broadened. "Attendance is mandatory~♥"
As soon as she was gone, Shiouji picked himself up, along with what little remained of his dignity, and brushed himself off. He checked his computer to see whether he had sleep-geniused up a miraculous solution to his problems; he had not. At this point, there was little more to do than clean up and shuffle out to breakfast. After all, attendance was mandatory.
He walked in to where his mother was arranging Iwata's head with a bowl of flowers, and let out a little groan as he took his seat. "Honestly, Mother, on the kitchen table?"
"Now, now. How do you think poor Norikuni feels? He is officially dead, after all. We're the only family he has." She ruffled his hair. "Are you comfortable, honey?"
"Yes, Mommy~" Iwata replied.
"'Mommy'?" Shiouji shot him a horrified look.
"Don't be jealous, Gojyou-chan," his mother chided. "Mommy still loves you best of all~" She slid in next to him, wrapping her arms around him.
"MOTHER, I THOUGHT YOU WERE MAKING BREAKFAST."
"Honestly, when have you ever known me to make breakfast?" Snuggling a little closer, Miwa tapped his nose with the spatula. "I'm sure Umi will wake up sooner or later!"
"I'LL WAKE HER," he yelped. Once he managed to wriggle out of her grasp, he made a frantic dash for Umi's door. Once there, he gave himself a moment to regain his composure, and knocked. "Umi, are you--"
"I'M SORRY!" The door flew open, smashing into his face and knocking him flat onto his back. Umi stepped out in her German maid costume (French maid once again unavailable), spiked heel digging directly into his kidney. "I didn't mean to be late making breakfast but I couldn't decide what to wear and then I did decide what to wear but I had trouble with all the straps so Ms. Excel helped me and... Professor? Where'd you go?"
Shiouji moaned loudly the moment that noises stopped coming out of Umi's mouth, hoping desperately that she might hear him and move. And it worked, though he had been too preoccupied with the spasms of pain to actually listen to her apology, or notice the second pair of feet that stepped so mercifully over him.
If he'd had any idea of the three-ring breakfast he'd be walking in on, he probably would have just stayed on the floor. Umi was dropping things everywhere, partially due to Miwa's molestation, but mostly due to being Umi. Iwata's head continued to serve as a macabre centerpiece, cheering on both parties. His unwelcome houseguest sat at the center of things, unphased, concentrating only on buttering up a piece of toast.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "What is she doing here?"
Miwa tsked. "It's all right for you to have an overnight guest every now and then, sweetie."
"She was my overnight guest, Au--er, Miwa!" Umi squeaked.
"My little Umi-chan is growing up~" Miwa's eyes glinted malevolently. "Do you know what it means when two women make love, Gojyou?"
"I don't want to know."
Miwa's glasses glinted dramatically, and she pointed at her son in stark accusation. "It could only mean they are longing for the touch of a man! Please, share your love with them!"
"Professor, share some of your luck with me," Iwata replied in a sing-songy voice.
"Hey," said Excel, poking at his head with the butter knife. "What's with the creepy animatronics?"
"Watch where you're jabbing that thing!" Iwata complained, while the Shiouji family exchanged awkward looks.
"The professor studies robotics," Umi blurted, which wouldn't have been good enough excuse even for Excel, had she cared.
She didn't care. "Can I have more toast?"
Umi nodded. "I'll get you some eggs, too!"
"You know what would make our little breakfast even more perfect?" Miwa chirped. "Television." She flicked on the TV, flipping through channels until one caught her eye. "Aha! It's my favorite - Survivor: Hinamizawa!"
"Breaking news--" broke into the show.
"Boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
But the next channel showed a similar report. "--has landed in America, on the lawn of the Whi--"
"Boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
"--clared a message of peace, after dispatching most of the United States Air Fo--"
"It's as though they can't hear me boo," said Miwa, and changed the station.
"--rrestrial being appears to be humanoid in form, as you can see from this foota--"
"Let's watch a DVD!" Miwa turned the TV off.
"Wait!" cried Excel. She couldn't quite place it, but something had flashed across the screen in that last second, something that had caught her eye. Wrestling the remote away from the hands that had groped so many, she turned the television back on.
It became immediately evident to everyone what she had seen - it was her own face.
"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Umi. "Is Ms. Excel an actress?" But Excel was too glued to the screen to answer.
They listened to the speech in progress. "--has been watching over this world for some time, and we have judged it to be corrupt. For a complete list of the corruptions found in this world, please visit ideologicalorganizationacross.or.jp for a copy of our publicly-distributed manifesto. Yes, people of Earth, your planet is corrupt, and we are the only ones capable of correcting it. I know this will be a period of adjustment for everyone, but it is in your own best interests to cooperate. No one desires unnecessary bloodshed.
"Again, we are ACROSS, the elite organization striving for the realization of the ideological ideal under the guidance and wisdom of Lord Il Palazzo. This is Excel, signing out."
The news report cut back to the reporter, who continued to describe the situation, but in the Shiouji house, all eyes were on Excel.
She said nothing. She was more shocked than anyone.
The shrill ring of a telephone broke into the moment, and Umi scampered off to answer it. "Professor! It's for you!"
Shiouji took it with the utmost of reluctance. "Hello, I'm somewhat busy--"
"WE HAVE A CODE RED!" Kabapu's voice was so loud it echoed through the room.
"Doctor, can this possibly wait five minutes--"
"ARE YOU NOT AWARE OF WHAT A 'CODE RED' IS?"
While he was distracted, Miwa took the opportunity to move in on Excel. "So the good Doctor gave you the Thetanator. What a fortunate girl you are!"
Excel was too busy being uncomfortable under her scrutiny to point out that she had no possible way of knowing that. "You want it?"
"Oh, I couldn't. I had my fun with it when my husband designed it. It belongs to you now... though I'd be more than happy to show you how to use it, if you want~"
"I don't."
"Are you certain? Il Palazzo isn't a man who tolerates weaknesses. You'll have to be a lot stronger if you want to win his favor."
Excel froze. Once it had been vocalized, she had no way of denying it.
"Then it's a date! Bring your new toy, and I'll meet you out back."
Excel knew she shouldn't follow. She had to clear up this whole mess with Lord Il Palazzo ASAP, and clearly this shady woman couldn't be trusted. And yet... somehow, she knew that the Thetanator was a powerful weapon. It might come in handy. Besides that, she needed to prove that she was worthy of being Lord Il Palazzo's #2... not to this big-busted bimbo, but to herself.
She headed out back, and the training began.
"The Thetanator is a clever tool," said Miwa, batonning it lazily, "because it exists not on a physical level, but the thetan level; the spiritual level, in layman's terms. That is to say, if you use it to hit something-" She swung it at a rock, which exploded on impact, "-it attacks not the thing, but the meaning of the thing. It's very Mystic Eyes of Death Perception like that."
"Boy," said Excel, "am I sure glad I've been lugging that thing around until now."
"Oh, that's much harder to do to people." Miwa grinned. "Unless you're specifically aiming to kill, using this on a human will only have positive effects. Foreign thetans are the cause of all the anguish and sorrow in the world, after all. The souls of dead aliens don't understand that it's harmful for them to touch us; they're simply drawn to our life force, like poltergeists, succubi, or senior citizens."
"Wow," said Excel, "that sure does explain the existence of suffering far better than the plethora of social, political, monetary, physical, chemical, genetic, and environmental factors which seemed to contribute to the human condition so convincingly before."
Miwa waggled a finger. "It's no sillier than a six-armed elephant or nailing some poor man to a tree... or Lord Il Palazzo," she added wickedly.
Excel took a swing, but Miwa moved quickly, drawing the Thetanator to block her blow. No contact was made; Excel's fist stopped inches away and hung, frozen midair, until Miwa flicked her wrist. Excel's entire body flew across the back yard, skidding along the ground.
"It controls disembodied thetans as well," Miwa chirped. "It's quite cruel, actually."
Excel picked herself up, wiping blood and grass from her lip. Miwa tossed the Thetanator at her. She caught it, fumbled, and caught it again.
"So, to review: You can manipulate the air, obliterate inanimate objects, and heal the souls of living things. All you have to do is want it to work. You can practice on me, if you like. I'm an OT 16, but I get so behind on my auditing. Frankly, I feel sorry for the poor little thetans... we all just want to touch someone, don't we?"
"Strangely enough, I don't want to heal your soul even a little."
"Fair enough. Why don't you try your own? Think how much better you'll feel."
Excel peered at the baton suspiciously. "Not to spew dated material, but is this healing Kevorkian in nature?"
"It responds to the user's wishes, so if you don't want to hurt yourself, you won't hurt yourself. Try saying, 'Begone, evil thetans,' and giving yourself a little tap on the head. Go on!" Miwa clapped encouragingly.
Excel allowed herself one last moment of hesitation before diving into the situation head-first. "BEGONE, EVIL THETANS!" she cried, and bopped herself over the head. "OW!"
Miwa's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Well?"
"Well nothing," she growled sullenly. "You tricked me into whacking myself over the head."
"You don't feel any different?"
"Yeah, actually, there's this one spot on my noggin..."
"I did tell you to 'tap', but hmm... that is strange. Let me check on something." She whipped out a pair of what appeared to be night vision goggles, pulling off her glasses and strapping them to her head.
"I submit that those do nothing," said Excel, but was ignored.
"Oh, you are an interesting girl... most people are swamped with thetans, but you're completely clean."
"Wasn't that the point?"
"Not like this. Could it be that you're already..." Removing the goggles and replacing her glasses once more, she tapped her toe in thought. "I'll put it this way - there is no negative energy within a good meter of you. If you're able to banish it like that, it means two things. One, that whatever conflicts you may have are completely internalized; and two, that your power is tremendous. You're practically Clear. In Scientology terms, that means that you should be exhibiting massive amounts of psychic ability... but as anyone can see, you're not."
Excel's patience with this cultist nonsense was rapidly thinning. "This is just a guess, but could it be that you're completely deranged?"
Miwa laughed. "Whether I am or not, this is no fluke. You have these powers, even if you can only use them unconsciously. I'll bet you heal quickly, Excel-chan. I'll bet there are a lot of coincidences in your life that you just can't--"
"EXCEL-CHAN IS LEAVING NOW," she announced. "THIS IS MORE THAN ENOUGH MUMBO JUMBO FOR ONE DAY, PLEASE AND THANK YOU."
Miwa called after her even as she tromped away. "All you've managed to do is seal yourself off from the world. Why is that, Excel-chan? What are you hiding from~?"
"NOT SCREWBALLS, OBVIOUSLY!" she snapped, and was gone.