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“And I’m feeling so FAT right now! And my thighs. Just look at them bleh bleh bleh… bleh…”“Am I interrupting something?” “I- uh- hi” Michael stood up fast bumping a stack of empty frozen yogurt cups with his hip and sending them crashing to the floor. The woman in the doorway raised an eyebrow and gave him half a smile. He knew he should figure out who she was but the only thing in his brain was how she looked amazing in a smart suit and he was looking the part of a slob in baggy sweats and a tshirt he had outgrown twenty servings of frozen yogurt ago. “I take it this isn’t attempt number two” she offered. “Sean sent me to be a torture consultant. You’re Michael?”Michael cocked his head to the side, “You’re a human” He circled her curiously.“You’re drunk at three in the afternoon but you don’t see me judging”“Fair point” he conceded. He tried to subtly hold his hoodie closed. “Why would Sean send me a human?”She sat on the only edge of Michaels desk not covered in food, drink, or paper. “I believe the words he used were chaotic good. Check my point values” she tossed him a file, “basically he wants me to help you keep this place running”He thumbed through the folder, “These point values are…. Amazing. You netted enough to earn yourself a spot in either world for… Oh. Oh I see. That is chaotic good. Saved numerous ecosystems, helped the disadvantaged, and deliberately orchestrated the downfall of you political opponents in some really creative ways”“Okay. Well. Turn me in?”“And lose this sweet job? Not a chance. Punish the bad for a better cause? Beats the hell out of a medium place. That St Claire woman is… let’s just say it’s something I’d rather forget. I can either be bland for the rest of eternity, or I can be of help” “In death as in life then. What ethics code is that?”“Darwin. Natural selection. Survival of the good enough. Speaking of good enough, let’s start with you. First you need some properly fitting clothes, then something to eat that isn’t frozen yogurt. You’re getting good place take out, none of this so-so shit”She .snapped her fingers and his clothes turned into a much better fitted three piece suit. She turned him around and tied his bowtie for him, then turned him back around. “Hey Janet? Get him whatever he’s craving and keep him seated until he’s finished it”“But I-”“You. You are going to stay put and take care of yourself while I set this place up for a fresh start”---“Oh my stomach” Michael slumped back into his seat. “Janet, let me up”“I’m sorry. I’ve been ordered by a human to keep you seated until you’ve eaten everything”“But I’m full”“But you’re not done”“I like the way she thinks. It’s just a few fries, it won’t hurt you” Michael struggled to sit up further and hoped that the suit jacket would conceal most of the bloating, “What did you say your name was again?”“Dr Morrigan Buckley” she answered. She started idly feeding him the remaining fries off of his plate. “Not that degrees matter here I suppose. I just finished cleaning up your office. I’m supposed to be a consultant on human torture but clearly I’m going to have to teach you how to take care of your human form too” “My human form is mf!” she cut him off by putting the rest of a milkshake to his lips and tipping it into his mouth.“Your human form can’t subsist on liquor and the depressed equivalent of ice cream”He wanted to respond but all he got out was a hiccup. He took a moment, hoping that the time would let his stomach settle, “Can I call you *Hic!* Morrigan then?”She smiled and unbound him, “of course”---“I know how to torture. Hell, they practically torture themselves! Why? How do their tiny little human brains- no offence- keep figuring it out?”Morrigan turned her back to the window, fully aware that Michael had used the interlude to loosen his belt. “I’m sure you’ve gotten an ear full about Kant, Hobbes, and the rest but I’m a biologist so I’m going to pull in Pavlov for this one. I’ll even forgive that comment because, well, they’re not exactly cream of the crop” she leaned over the desk on her elbows just to get a rise out of Michael. 200 years in a human body and he hadn’t even managed to control his blush. “Now, Pavlov did train his dogs to salivate to the sound of a bell, but that’s about where everyone stops reading. Less appreciated, he also figured out how to make it last”She called Janet and asked for a bowl of candy. “Humor me”. She snapped her fingers and placed a candy to his lips for him to eat. He, stomach ache having subsided, obliged. Snap. Bite. Snap. Bite. About seven times, then on the eight he opened his mouth but she didn’t give him any. The she repeated that two more times until he got the point.“Okay. What was that?”“Let me show you”She did the same thing but more random. Sometimes every other snap. Five in a row. Give three, skip two. Increasing between intervals up to eight snaps, every time with him opening his mouth expectantly.“That’s what that was” she smirked.“I don’t get it” he stifled a belch. The candy had filled in any space the half hour of digestion had freed up and he felt like his slacks were trying to cut him in half. Uncomfortable as it was, he was damned if he was going to unbutton his pants in front of her. There was something about her that made his human suit go haywire in a way he didn’t understand but didn’t want to stop. He got the feeling that a display of gluttony was a poor first meeting choice.“If you take away the stimulus completely” she fed him another candy, “the behavior is unlearned even more quickly than it was learned. When this place becomes a shit show, the humans take notice and without that positive stimulus they realize this is the bad place. If you want it to stick” another candy, “you need to throw them a bone once in a while. Make it look like all of their problems stem from themselves or each other. If their problems seem internal, they won’t question the place. They’ll question themselves ” “That’s… that’s brilliant! If it works… What can I give them though? Anything they want they can get through Janet”“I think you should disconnect yourself from it entirely. Play down the drama, create tension, then just let it get resolved. Improvising is a safer bet, feels less scripted”
“One more thing” Michael looked up at Morrigan with puppy dog eyes, “You won’t tell anyone this hasn’t been working right?”For a moment his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. This was especially uncomfortable because there really wasn’t any space left for it there. But then a little miracle happened; she smiled. Shaking her head, “No. No, your secret is safe with me. Now then, let’s take it from the top”