Today’s Daily Writing post is brought to you by Hansen’s Hypno-Coins.
The Simpsons: Twentieth Television Animation and Gracie Films.
Hypnosis, as I understand it, isn’t exactly the infallible process it’s depicted as in Pop Culture. In general, for hypnosis to work, the subject has to co-operate.
So, naturally, enter Dunstana Darkstone…
The cobblestone avenues of Porthaven’s Market District attract street performers in the same way fish heads attract Turbosharks, with a marginally less potent fish smell.
“Can we go home, Amara?” Kat asks. “My arms hurt. And all this stuff you’re making me carry isn’t even mine!”
“Well, Katherine,” Amara answers. “A girl can never have too many pairs of adventuring boots.”
“This is too many pairs of adventuring boots,” Kat protests, holding up the bags of Amara’s new footwear.
“Let’s at least take some time to patronise the performers,” Amara insists.
Kat groans.
On the corner, a wizard is addressing the crowd of onlookers.
“Behold,” the wizard declares, “the awesome powers of the ancient and eldritch art of Hypnosis.
The assembled crowd applauds politely.
“Hurry up,” Dunstana says impatiently as she stands beside the wizard. “I’m only doing this to meet my community services so I can renew my Brotherhood status this year.”
“My young friend here has generously volunteered to be my subject,” the wizard continues, pointing to Dunstana. “That you all may witness the ancient and eldritch art of Hypnosis.”
“You already said that,” Dunstana mutters.
“Silence!” the wizard declares.
He reaches for a crystal amulet on a long chain and begins to swing it back and forth in front of Dunstana.
“Focus on the amulet,” he instructs. “”And feel yourself begin to fall into the trance.”
Dunstana watches the amulet, but is unimpressed.
“You are getting sleepy,” the wizard says. “Very sleepy.”
“Not really,” Dunstana says.
“You are getting sleepy,” the wizard repeats.
Dunstana watches his swinging amulet, though remains thoroughly unimpressed.
“You saying it in a spooky voice doesn’t make it true,” she notes.
“But you are,” the wizard insists. “You are getting sleepy.”
“I know you are,” Dunstana counters, “but what am I?”
The wizard indignantly clears his throat.
“You are getting sleepy,” he repeats.
“Oh,” Dunstana says. “I know you are, but what am I?”
“Silence!” the wizard declares.
“Look, if you’re just going to yell at me, I’ll leave,” Dunstana says.
“Very well,” the wizard says. “We shall try a different approach.”
He looks gravely at Dunstana.
“You are feeling very suggestible,” he says. “Thus, when I snap my fingers, you shall be… a chicken!”
He snaps his finger.
“Behold! You are a chicken.”
“Nope,” Dunstana says. “Still a person.”
“You are a chicken,” the wizard insists, snapping his fingers several more times
“You’re a chicken,” Dunstana insists.
“No. You’re a chicken.”
“You’re a chicken,” Dunstana repeats.
“I’m a chicken?” the wizard asks.
Dunstana nods. “Yeah. You’re a chicken. Go be a chicken.”
“I’m a chicken!” the wizard declares.
He tucks up his arms like wings and starts strutting around the cobblestones while clucking at pecking at the ground, occasionally pausing to declare ‘I’m a chicken!’
Kat and Amara look up in bemusement.
“I, ah, don’t believe that’s how this is supposed to work,” Amara mutters.
“Cool,” Dunstana says, watching the wizard cluck and flap his arms. “I don’t even know what I did.”
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